


Desperate Measures

by aliciameade



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: (barely), Covid-19 Related, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pitch Perfect 3, Quarantine, Queerantine, Roommates, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strap-Ons, Voyeurism, kink discussion, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: Chloe and Beca have everything they need to weather the mandated period of social distancing and staying home: food, water, shelter, games, entertainment, and each other's company.The one thing they don't have?Much-needed privacy.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 144
Kudos: 967
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	1. Desperate Times

* * *

Chloe figures there are worse people she could be forced into isolation with than Beca Mitchell.

Like, of roughly 8 billion people on the planet, she has the best one to be quarantined with.

It helps that Amy was already shacking up with someone before the Mayor sent down his shelter in place orders. They have the apartment to themselves for the foreseeable future.

At this news, Beca had announced she would be taking over Amy’s bed for a week, and then it would be Chloe’s turn, so she and Chloe wouldn’t have to continue sharing the small, mostly uncomfortable pull-out sofa they’ve been living on for the past year. 

However, when it came time to go to bed, Chloe bit her tongue as Beca rolled her eyes and climbed into the shared bed, same as always.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Chloe watches her in her peripheral vision while they unwind from a day of doing nothing. Beca’s on her phone with only one of her AirPods in, the one on her right side, opposite Chloe. She can hear the tinny, empty sound of the music she’s listening to escaping that one earbud and it’s an odd comfort. Some version of normalcy in the world that’s been turned upside-down recently.

She reads until her eyelids grow too heavy. When she sets aside her book, Beca puts her phone away and they turn in for the night, together, like always.

* * *

They’re on Day 13 when Chloe’s getting antsy. Not antsy from being home, though; they get outside often enough for fresh air. It’s quickly become her favorite thing to grab Beca’s hand and pull her out the door to go for a walk on the least populated streets they can find. Social distancing has only given Chloe more excuses to be closer to Beca than usual by using basic excuses such as, “I’m starved for physical interaction, Bec!”

But all the daily walks can’t quell a different kind of starvation.

Beca not going to work and Chloe never having privacy has resulted in little to no opportunities for Chloe to tend to her personal sexual needs.

  
And it’s not that she’s _insatiable._ She considers herself to have a normal, healthy libido and an active sex life. But her hormonal cycle is starting to kick into overdrive and it’s becoming difficult to ignore. She also has precious little to distract herself with, forcing her to fixate on her unexpected and involuntary celibacy.

She does sneak one quick personal session in while Beca showers a few feet away behind nothing but a patterned curtain. The riskiness amps up the hotness of it, as does the fact that she can so easily picture Beca nude and showering, but it’s quick and does little to satisfy her. In fact, it only makes it worse, to the point that she’s beginning to feel drunk with horniness.

It’s a shitty state to be in when you live with your best friend in an apartment with zero privacy.

Which is why she’s not surprised when the question falls from her foggy brain to her lips when they’re in bed doing their nightly domestic routine of reading together quietly after she’s stared at the same page of her book for 15 minutes.

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”

She sees Beca’s face turn toward her. “Dude, what?”

“Like, in bed,” she says with a casual shrug. She keeps her eyes on her book as one does with any casual conversation. “You know, sex.”

“Yeah, I know, what kinky means,” Beca says with a hint of amusement in her voice. “You’re asking me this why?”

She turns the page in her book. She has no idea what it says. “Why not?”

“Because that’s pretty personal?”

She shrugs again and tries to quell her thoughts but fails. She’s horny and in bed with the one person she’s been genuinely attracted to for as long as she can remember. She’s also had a lot of time to think about how she and Beca could be passing their down-time. For example, taking turns going down on each other. Or simultaneously.

“I let someone handcuff me once,” Beca says after a few beats of silence. She mutters it under her breath but it reaches Chloe’s ears loud and clear.

She aims to keep her voice conversational. “Did you like it?”

Beca clears her throat. “Yeah. It was...good, I guess. What about you?”

Chloe doesn’t expect Beca to volley it back to her but is pleasantly surprised. “Ooh, yeah. I like being tied up.” She closes her book to glance at Beca who is staring intently at the screen of her phone, though her thumb isn’t scrolling through anything. “But I like to be the one doing the tying.”

Beca’s swallow is audible. “Cool.”

It makes Chloe chuckle. “Yeah. Cool.” She glances again and she can tell Beca’s blushing, the tiniest hint of pink coloring her cheeks and tips of her ears. “You know what I’ve always wanted to try?”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Spanking.”

“Oh, my God,” Beca says, sounding thoroughly mortified. Not that that fazes Chloe at all.

“I mean, I’ve done it, but not like, _really_ , done it, you know? Not like bent over a knee, counting them off kind of spanking.”

Beca seems to shrink in on herself. “Wow, yeah. I got it.”

“Oh, come on,” she says, amused by Beca’s bashfulness. She knows it’s mostly false; she’s seen Beca when she gets out of her head. Hell, she’s seen Beca have sex with a woman in a bar (not that Beca knows that; they were clearly trying to be discreet but they weren’t even in a booth; it was literally on a barstool with Beca’s hand under the woman’s skirt. Chloe remembers it clearly and thinks about it often.). She moves her foot over to kick at Beca’s. “I’m bored. Tell me something you want to try. Have you been spanked?”

Beca laughs and whips her head around to look at Chloe again. She’s smiling, but it’s one of her bright, biting, sarcastic smiles. “I am not drunk enough for this. Or, like, at all.”

“Just tell me,” she whines, putting on her famed puppy-dog eyes that she knows Beca can never say ‘no’ to. “Or maybe you’re the one who did the spanking,” she adds thoughtfully and watches as Beca drops her phone and covers her face with both hands with a groan. “No, you totally are the one who’d get spanked.”

“Fine,” Beca grits out and Chloe almost hops out of bed in excitement. “Just...turn off the fucking lights I am not sitting here talking about this like we’re meal planning for the week.”

“Done,” Chloe says, twisting around to turn off her bedside lamp while Beca does the same. She knew she’d be able to crack Beca; it never takes much.

“I’m going on record that I’m only having this conversation out of sheer boredom.”

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Chloe says in her best _Law & Order _ voice as she flips onto her side to face Beca.

“No, none of that,” Beca says swirling her finger at Chloe. “Eyes on the ceiling.”

“Fine,” Chloe sighs and rolls to her back to get comfortable and feels Beca doing the same. “Well?” she prompts after a few seconds of stillness and silence.

“Well, what?”

“Don’t act like you forgot. Answer the question.”

“Oh, my God.” Beca sounds exasperated. “Yes, okay?”

Chloe hadn’t expected that or the welcomed visions that accompany it. “Did you like it?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, “Yeah.” Chloe can tell she’s rolling her eyes with the answer.

“Blindfolds?”

“They’re fine.”

The hesitancy is shorter that time, which surprises Chloe. She wonders if it’s because it was a vanilla question or if Beca’s accepting the line of questioning and resigning herself to it. Or if Beca just didn’t have to think about it. “Role-play?”

“...What kind of role-play?”

The tone of Beca’s voice holds curiosity, and that curiosity makes Chloe’s heart skip a beat. “You tell me.”

Extended silence follows and she hears Beca sniff, a nervous tick Chloe knows well, before she answers. “I don’t know, like...student/teacher.”

Her heart thumps again. “Who did you role-play student/teacher with?”

Beca’s voice is direct. “We’re talking about what we’ve done, not who we did it with.”

“Okay, okay. Were you the student or the teacher?” She smiles, letting the images of Beca in a Catholic school girl uniform fill her brain. “You were totally the student.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, making Chloe laugh. “Why am I the one confessing everything?”

Chloe has already confessed a few things but she doesn’t argue. She’d rather keep talking about dirty things with Beca in the dark, in bed, right next to her. “I had a four-way once.”

She sees Beca’s head snap to the left to stare at her, breaking Beca’s own rule. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” she laughs.

She feels Beca’s eyes on her but doesn’t give in to the temptation to turn and look and Beca goes back to staring at the ceiling. “And it was all girls,” she decides to clarify. “I thought it would be complicated but we were just, like, in a circle head to toe. Well, more like mouth to—”

Beca interrupts her. “I get it.” 

She decides to embellish. “It was really hot. Like, one girl moaning? Hot. But three? At the same time? I came _so—_ ”

“Holy shit, I said I got it,” Beca interrupts again, sounding a bit winded. 

Chloe laughs and tries not to think about the fact that she knows her panties are growing wetter the longer this conversation goes on. “Okay, okay. Your turn.”

“Just give me a minute,” Beca grumbles.

Chloe keeps her thoughts to herself to let Beca think. Thoughts of what Beca might sound like when she moans. Of how hard she could make Beca come. Of what she tastes— 

“I had sex on the desk once.”

Chloe gasps; it’s her turn to snap her head to the right to stare at Beca’s profile in the darkness. “The no-sex-on-the-desk desk?!”

“Yeah,” Beca laughs. “It was bad, too. I just wanted to do it because I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Always the little rebel,” Chloe teases and she watches Beca roll her eyes and smile. “My turn to confess something.”

“Oh God, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“I saw you fingering that blonde girl at the bar a few weeks ago.” She hadn’t meant to confess that, but there it was.

Beca turns to meet her eyes. “You did not!”

“I totally did,” Chloe laughs. “She was pretty. And came, like, super-fast. I’m impressed.”

“Wait, that she was pretty or that she came fast?”

“No, no,” she clarifies. “Of course you can get the pretty girls. I wasn’t surprised by that.”

“Just that I’m good at fucking them?”

Chloe wonders what her face looks like right now; probably all kinds of entertained and shocked. “No, I was impressed that you did it right there where everybody could see you.”

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t _that_ obvious.”

“It was totes obvious,” she whispers. “But it was really hot.” She hadn’t meant to confess that either, but…

She sees the corner of Beca’s mouth twitch like she’s trying not to react. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she replies as she decides it’s finally safe to turn onto her side rather than crane her neck to see Beca while they talk. “I could tell you really wanted her to feel good.”

“I mean, yeah,” Beca says, starting to smile like she’s proud until her mind catches up with the conversation. “Oh, my God you saw me having sex. We are not talking about that anymore.” She turns to stare at the ceiling once more. “I’ve never seen _you_ have sex.”

It’s hard to separate what is amusement and what is arousal now, but there are ample amounts of both flowing through Chloe’s system. “That could be arranged.”

Beca’s eyes close and Chloe can tell she’s clenching her jaw even in the darkness. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Chloe says thoughtfully. “But I did. I like being watched.”

She watches Beca swallow; it feels abnormally slow. “Voyeurism, huh?” 

“Mhm.” Something feels different suddenly, like when the air grows still and humid before a thunderstorm.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Beca adds. She sounds kind of breathless and Chloe can’t help but wonder if this conversation is turning Beca on the say way it’s turning her on. “You like to...perform.”

“Yes, I do.” She watches Beca for a few seconds; she seems fidgety. “What’s your favorite position?”

“I am _not_ answering that,” Beca says, her most Beca-like laugh of awkwardness leaping out with the words.

“Oh, please. Who cares. I’ll tell you mine.” The level of need Chloe has to know the answer is not one she should have for her friend. But she can’t unpack that right now.

“You first.”

Chloe pushes back. “No, _you_ first. It was my question.” 

She watches Beca pull a hand out from under their shared blankets to squeeze the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She says something but it’s unclear.

“What?”

Beca repeats herself but Chloe can only make out that it ends with the letter ‘d.’

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t hear—”

“From behind! I like it from behind, okay?” Beca literally shouts it before covering her face with both hands again. “Oh, my God, I want to die.”

The confession absolutely floors Chloe and she doesn’t stop herself from reaching over to pull one of Beca’s hands away from her face. “That’s really hot,” she says, words measured to not make Beca think she’s mocking her. It’s difficult, though; she’s so physically affected by Beca’s blurted answer that she feels lightheaded. Images swirl through her mind again like butterflies of Beca on her hands and knees looking over her shoulder as Chloe— 

“You said you’d answer it, too,” Beca says, voice tight with embarrassment and anxiety. “Hurry up and put me out of my misery.”

“Oh, right,” she says once she remembers to breathe. She’s sure her palm is sweating where it’s still resting against Beca’s arm. “I really like it when the girl is on my lap riding me. Fingers, strap, whatever.”

“That’s nice,” Beca says, voice breaking into some kind of a stressed squeak, her one free hand turning to cover both her eyes.

“And I like my hair being pulled.”

“I didn’t ask about that.”

Chloe shrugs but she doubts Beca can see it, still hiding her eyes the way she is. “You know, both of us being home every day, I haven’t been able to touch myself in a long time.” She’s starting to operate on adrenaline and arousal which is often a dangerous combination.

Beca mutters, “Oh, my God,” for the dozenth time of this conversation. “Do you need me to go stand in the hall? I can give you privacy.”

“Remember how I said I like being watched?” She bites her lip and watches Beca’s reaction.

It’s a full-body one. She squirms until she’s pulled her captive arm away from Chloe so she can drag the covers up and over her head. “Why are you like this?”

“Where are you going?” Chloe laughs as she tugs on the blanket. “You want a front-row seat?”

Beca whips the blanket off her face, wispy hairs floating for a few seconds from static electricity to stare at her. “Dude.”

“Dude,” Chloe parrots, grinning at her. “It’s just me. When is the last time you did it?”

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation,” Beca says to herself. “I don’t know. Like, the other day, I guess.”

Chloe’s tickled by her honesty. “And where was I?”

“You went to get the mail,” Beca groans, though she doesn’t try to hide her face again. She just avoids eye contact instead.

“It takes, like, two minutes to run downstairs and back.” She just smiles wider. “So quick.”

“Dude, shut up!” Beca says with exasperation. “You literally just said we’re both always here it’s not like I get to do it as often as I’d like.”

Chloe hears her teeth click when she slams her jaw closed for once again revealing more than she had intended, though it’s exactly the kind of revelation Chloe was hoping for. “You know…” she starts.

“What is that tone? What is your voice doing?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Chloe says as she turns to her back to once again lay side by side with Beca. “But if we’re both wound up because we’re never alone to...relieve ourselves—”

“‘Relieve ourselves’ sounds like you mean peeing.”

“Wait, Beca, are you into golden showers?” she teases, just to watch Beca hit the roof again.

Instead, she’s met with nothing but a long, irritated exhale. “You were saying?” Beca surprisingly asks.

“Oh, right. We’re really good friends, right? And we have to share this place for however long. And we have needs. Well, I know _I_ have needs—”

“I have needs,” Beca interjects. It makes Chloe’s eyebrows lift with much interest.

" _We_ have needs. I know talking about all this stuff tonight got me all riled up—”

“It did?”

Chloe chances a glance at Beca, but her eyes are tightly closed. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”

There’s a long pause, and then, “Yeah, I guess.”

It makes Chloe’s heart want to hammer right out of her chest. Beca’s admitting she’s turned on. Right now. In bed. With Chloe. “Then if you’re okay with it, maybe we just agree to…” She has to stop and wet her lips; she’s irritatingly nervous and she only gets nervous like this before a performance. _(Well…)_ “Do you want to touch yourself?”

The painfully extended silence is very telling.

“Because I really want to touch myself right now,” she continues when Beca doesn’t answer. “Would that be okay?” 

Beca finally speaks. “How is that not weird?”

“Who says it’s weird?”

“I don’t know. People.”

“We’re the only people who will know. I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s kind of sexy.” She leaves it at that. She can’t push it further; she’s on thin ice as it is. All she can do is wait and try to ignore the ache between her legs.

“Just...don’t look at me,” Beca huffs and Chloe sees her pointedly turn her face toward the wall.

“Deal,” Chloe says, basically squealing as she does as requested and turns away while she closes her eyes.

Her heart is beating so hard she barely hears Beca’s voice over it.

“So, are we just, like, doing this? Or…?”

“Do you need me to say 3-2-1-go?”

Beca just sighs and Chloe giggles, but chooses to let her giggle turn into a sigh of her own as she slips her hand down the front of her pajama shorts.

How wet she is comes as no surprise to her, but her sensitivity is unexpected and a whimper she didn’t quite mean to release escapes.

“Oh, my God you’re really doing it,” Beca says next to her and Chloe feels her shifting around but keeps her eyes closed.

She can’t get a read on Beca’s tone; it sounds more surprised than anything, but it’s laced with something else. She strains her hearing to listen to Beca, to listen for any movement or a change in her breathing or any sign whatsoever that Chloe is not doing this alone.

She’d be okay if she was, though. It is extraordinarily hot that Beca agreed to it at all, that she decided to be okay to be present and inches away while Chloe touches herself and the wetness beneath her fingers is confirmation of that.

It’s easy to begin to lose herself in it, though Beca’s proximity remains at the forefront of her mind. She’s touch-starved and needy and it feels so good to finally be able to let her hands wander, to let her fingers stroke over and around her clit while her other hand pushes under her pajama top to tease a stiff nipple. To let herself moan and not worry about getting caught.

Every nerve in her body comes alive when she hears Beca’s breath hitch just the tiniest bit. 

She’s filled with a new kind of ache: to make Beca talk about what she might be doing on her side of the bed. It’s too soon for Beca, though. Chloe knows her well enough that everything Beca does has to be worked through in stages until she finds her comfort with it or abandons it altogether.

Instead, Chloe tries to offer encouragement through an embellished moan, but she doesn’t have to fake the pleasure. The very possibility that Beca is touching herself next to her is almost enough to bring on her climax and she has to grit her teeth for a moment or two and still her fingers to let the sudden rush of arousal subside. While she waits, she holds her breath and listens for Beca, for any confirmation that she really is touching herself. She can hear her breathing and it’s almost too even and slow, a little too nasal for it to be natural.

“You don’t have to be quiet,” she chances to say. 

“It’s not like you’re being loud.”

Chloe smiles to herself. “Is that a challenge?”

“No.”

“But does that mean you’re doing it?”

There’s another pause, and then, “Maybe.”

She can’t help the groan that comes with Beca’s admission. 

“You don’t have to sound like porn,” Beca says, actual amusement in her tone.

“Can’t help it,” Chloe says with a smile in her voice, too, as her head tips back and her fingers slip lower to tease her entrance. “This is super hot.”

She hears Beca kind of hum and Chloe thinks she’s doing it to agree or disagree but the hum breaks into a stilted, very brief moan.

“Oh, yeah, you’re doing it,” Chloe breathes, starting to throw what little caution she still has to the wind.

Beca’s only response is a stubborn kind of grunt that tells Chloe she should probably stop commenting on Beca’s actions. So she does and instead lets Beca know what she’s feeling, sighing and whimpering when she tugs on her own nipple, whining when she teases herself by not slipping inside yet.

Beca was right, earlier. Chloe does like performing, especially for Beca. Especially with her voice, but her body is an instrument in this as well, and she lets her hips start rocking up into her hand. She knows Beca will be able to feel it; they can’t so much as blink without it being felt by the other in their rickety bed.

She doesn’t expect Beca’s reaction to be so immediate, or so vocal, but it’s there: a light, airy, unrestrained moan.

She wonders what Beca’s doing. If her fingers are between her legs, inside or outside her pajama pants, if her hands are on her breasts or stomach or thighs. She wonders what Beca likes, how Beca likes to be worked up, to be touched, how she likes to touch herself. If it’s hard and fast or soft and slow. She knows Beca has a vibrator; Chloe found it once by accident when she was looking for a spare cord to charge her phone after forgetting hers at the office. She wants to know how she uses it.

She wants to know what Beca sounds like when she’s being taken from behind, how her back would be sweating when Chloe would drag her nails down it as she— 

A whispered curse slices through her thoughts and on instinct she turns her head to look.

She wishes she hadn’t; she wishes she’d prepared herself for what Beca would look like, eyes closed and lips parted as her head tips back further into her pillow. As her chest rises and falls with her quickened breathing. As the covers over her midsection move with subtle but distinct rhythm. She wasn’t supposed to look. She promised Beca she wouldn’t. But she did and she can’t help the moan that escapes at the sight.

She doesn’t expect Beca to do what she just did until they’re suddenly looking at each other. She readies herself for the moment to fall apart.

“You weren’t supposed to look at me,” Beca says instead, and, breathtakingly, it is clear she hasn’t stopped what she was doing.

“Oops,” Chloe breathes, stilling her fingers and hips for a moment to step her orgasm back again.

“This is hot.”

Chloe almost moans again. “So hot.”

“No, I mean…” Beca uses her free hand, the one not apparently between her legs, to push at the quilt that’s covering them both. “This is hot. Can it go away?”

Chloe has to close her eyes for a second before she nods. At least she has a warning this time, to be able to mentally prepare herself for what she’ll see when they both work together to push down and kick away the blanket until it’s in a crumpled heap at their feet. She whimpers when her eyes reopen because Beca’s right hand is down the front of her pants. Her shirt has ridden up—or was pushed up—past her navel and Chloe’s filled with the desire to kiss the soft skin there. She knows her own is displaced as well and doesn’t bother to fix it.

“Yeah, this is hot, too,” Beca says with a laugh that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is when it sounds so shy. Her eyes are closed again but they reopen after a few seconds, and she’s still facing Chloe.

Chloe can’t help but smile. “So hot,” she repeats.

Beca’s eyelashes flutter a few times before they close again. “This is…”

“Hot?” Chloe finishes.

She watches Beca’s lips tug into a small smile. “I’m not...I can’t…” She huffs instead of finishing her thought and Chloe connects the dots.

“Oh. _Oh._ Do you want me to put headphones on or something? Or I can move to the floor—”

A hand landing on her forearm, the one that is connected to the hand down her shorts, stops her. “No. Just...”

Chloe’s heart feels like it’s in her stomach. Physical contact wasn’t part of the deal and Beca just initiated it. “Just?” she says, hearing how tight her voice sounds. Her wrist also flexes as her hips tilt, need starting to overtake her again.

  
She watches Beca’s hips roll, too, as a moan escapes her. “Do that again.”

Beca wants to feel her moving.

“Like this?” she asks as she resumes her pace, her fingers sliding up and down as her hips lift and fall.

Beca licks her lips and nods. 

“God,” Chloe breathes as she watches Beca match her pace until they’re moving in sync. She wants to reach over and touch Beca. She wants Beca’s hand to follow her arm down until it’s her fingers playing with Chloe’s clit. She wants to watch as Beca starts to relax, the tension in her shoulders lessening even as her hand tightens around Chloe’s arm. 

Another quiet moan escapes Beca and Chloe echoes it. She allows her hips to speed up as she pushes her hand further down, down until she’s slipping a finger inside herself. It drags Beca’s hand down, too, and Chloe’s breath catches when she sees that Beca’s fingertips are actually beneath the elastic of Chloe’s shorts where she’s holding on to her arm.

Beca’s eyebrows knit like she’s thinking and a sudden, loud moan almost startles Chloe. She’s maybe realized what Chloe is doing and Chloe is more than okay with that. She moves in and out of herself slowly, exaggerating it for Beca’s benefit though the way it feels needs no theatrics. She’s letting every moan and whimper spill out that needs to because with each one she sees Beca’s hips cant upward sharply.

She wants Beca to look at her, to see what she’s doing to Chloe in the way Chloe can see what she’s doing to Beca, even in the darkness. How her cheeks are flushed and how her tongue flits over her lips and how... _God_ , and how her nipples are so visibly hard beneath the thin material of her T-shirt.

Chloe wants to come. She wants to come so badly it hurts. For all her bravado in proposing this, she doesn’t know how that should play out. If she should bite her tongue and come quietly and modestly. If she should let her hips buck and her voice do what it wants.

She doesn’t get a choice in the matter as Beca’s eyes open and meet hers.

It sets Chloe off like lightning striking.

She comes before she finishes figuring out how to handle it so her climax is uncensored and full-volume. Unbridled and wild as her hips buck and Beca’s blunt fingernails dig into the soft underside of her arm. Her body throbs and she manages to open her eyes, just for a moment, and finds Beca watching her and wearing a look of absolute desperation.

Beca’s release seems to hit her as unexpectedly as Chloe’s and she watches in awe as Beca comes, eyes slamming closed as her body tenses. Her moans are muffled by the way she’s clenching her jaw, like she’s trying to be quiet. Then her body’s curling in on itself, knees drawing toward her chest as she breathes hard until it passes and her legs fall back to the bed.

The whole event nearly makes Chloe come again but she’s too caught up in watching it to think to twitch her fingers. Instead, she watches Beca try to catch her breath. Her hand is still wrapped around Chloe’s forearm but it’s no longer clutching it. Beca seems to remember it’s there and loosens her grip as though to pull away but she just ends up dragging it higher a few inches before stopping again.

She watches the muscle in Beca’s jaw twitch a few times before she’s wetting her lips and swallowing. “Um…”

“Wow, Beca,” Chloe says as soon as Beca’s broken the moment.

“Just…” Beca finally, sadly, removes her hand from Chloe’s arm and uses it to hold her finger in the air to ask for a moment. Chloe’s hyper-aware that her other hand is still in her pants, as is her own, and she struggles to keep from staring even though Beca’s eyes are closed. “Gimme a minute.”

Chloe bites her lip and smiles, content to watch Beca return to herself. Chloe does slip her hand out of her shorts to rest wet fingers against her bare stomach

Finally, Beca opens her eyes and keeps them fixed firmly on the ceiling. “What did you mean by ‘wow’?” she asks.

Chloe smiles so big she knows Beca can see it out the corner of her eye. “You are _so_ freaking hot,” she says with earnest.

“Oh, my God, I am not,” Beca huffs and Chloe watches her try to bring her hands to cover her face, including the one she’s just dragged out of her pants, only to stop short.

Chloe tries not to notice that she can see them glistening in the faint ambient light and instead giggles as she twists to grab a tissue from the box next to the bed to pass to her.

  
She just huffs again and though it’s too dark to measure levels of blushing, Chloe’s sure whatever flush she’s wearing just deepened as she snaps it out of Chloe’s hand to wipe at her hand until she’s crumpling it and tossing it to the floor.

“So totally hot,” Chloe edges once Beca doesn’t seem ready to blow her top with embarrassment.

“Chloe,” she groans with a roll of her eyes that finally lands them back on Chloe for the first time since her climax. “Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not!” she laughs. “I came _so_ hard watching you.”

“You weren’t supposed to look at me!” Beca screeches as she half-sits up until she’s turning onto her side and laying back down. Facing Chloe.

“Yeah, well, you were looking at me,” Chloe shrugs as she wiggles onto her side, too. “You totally got off on me watching you.”

Beca’s eyes go wide and she puffs her cheeks out in exasperation.

“And I thought I was the one into voyeurism,” she continues teasing. “Learn something new about yourself?”

Beca’s exhale is loud but brief. “Whatever.” She points at Chloe, narrowing her eyes. “We don’t talk about this.”

Chloe’s heart sinks, just a little. It had been fun to live in her fantasy if only for a few minutes. “Ever?” She knows she sounds sad and she’s not trying to manipulate Beca. “I mean, this thing is going to last another month at least,” she amends. “You aren’t going to want to do it again?”

“Right now?” Beca blurts.

“I didn’t mean right now,” Chloe smiles, though suddenly her body warms.

“Oh.”

“Unless you want to?”

“Well...a month is a long time,” Beca finally answers, a bit begrudgingly. “I’m good for now, though.”

Chloe feels her heart soar and has to stop herself from moving to tackle Beca. Any other night and she would do it without thinking. Tonight, though, it’s different. “So you admit it was hot,” she says, grinning.

Beca presses her lips together for a few seconds until she rolls her eyes again. “Fine, it was hot.”

“Told you,” Chloe smiles and she watches Beca start to smile, too, before it fades to something else. Something Chloe can’t label, but it’s there as Beca quietly looks at her. Something about it makes her heart start to race.

It feels a lot like Beca might be thinking about kissing her.

Chloe wets her lips automatically, the possibility already making her breath speed up, until Beca breaks eye contact and starts to move until she’s turned onto her right side, back to Chloe, the way she always sleeps.

Chloe uses it as an invitation to move in behind her, like always, to fit herself along Beca’s back and slip an arm around her waist. Beca’s body is warmer than usual and Chloe can’t help but tip her face closer to breathe her in and find comfort in the familiarity. She lets her closeness bring her lips to the shell of Beca’s ear, which she kisses lightly.

“Sleep well,” she says as she rests her head on the pillow they’re sharing.

“Pretty sure I will now,” Beca replies, her tone playfully wry.

It makes Chloe squeeze her around her middle and give her a jostle. “You’re welcome,” she teases.

Beca hums and pokes her butt backward to bump into Chloe. “You, too. G’night.”

Chloe knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help herself. It’s too perfect. She pops her hips forward right into her ass. “So you like it from behind, huh?”

The only thing that keeps Beca from running out the door is Chloe’s hold on her waist as Chloe laughs until tears prick her eyes as Beca cusses her out with the most colorful language she knows until she finally gives up and goes limp.

“I hate you,” Beca says after a few seconds of breathing hard from trying to escape.

“Love you, too,” Chloe sing-songs as she presses a kiss to Beca’s shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

She hears Beca muttering something under her breath that sounds a lot like, “Whatever,” and she can’t help but smile as she closes her eyes, Beca in her arms.

_**The End (maybe...)** It's not the end, click to the next chapter. _


	2. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it warm in here?

* * *

Beca tries not to think about it.

She tries not to think about how she and Chloe laid in bed side by side touching themselves all the way to an unexpectedly simultaneous orgasm.

She tries not to think how she’d needed to feel connected to Chloe in the moment and what it had done to her to feel Chloe moving her hips and the subtle flexing in her arm as she worked her fingers within herself.

“Earth to Beca?”

She blinks and looks up. “Hmm, what?” 

“It’s your turn,” Chloe says, gesturing toward the dice in the middle of the Monopoly board. 

Beca’s losing by a lot; she didn’t want to resort to board games but it’s Week 3 of being housebound and anything to pass the time is worthy of consideration. “Oh, sorry,” she says as she scoops them up to roll, hoping she lands on one of Chloe’s hotel-improved properties so she can go bankrupt and end the game.

It’s been a week since that shared moment of intimacy. Neither of them has brought it up, nor any of the private confessions, since that night and Beca’s been grateful that Chloe respected her wishes.

But part of her, a part that is growing increasingly demanding to be heard, kind of wishes it would come up again.

Because Beca kind of really wants to do it again.

She hasn’t touched herself since that night, even though she’s aware that Chloe’s been finding excuses to check the mail (and take her time doing so), to take a walk around the block, or volunteer to do the weekly grocery trip. She knows why Chloe is doing it: it’s plainly obvious in the way she makes a scene gathering her things to leave and telling Beca, “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!” while winking at her.

Of course, none of these perfect opportunities had been aligned with any simmering need that Beca had and she’d spent the alone time doing things like tidying up the kitchen and returning phone calls.

When Chloe is home, however...that’s when Beca’s libido seems to enjoy reminding her that it exists.

“You’ve been so spacey lately,” Chloe muses while she collects Beca’s rent (not nearly enough to bankrupt her).

“Yeah, I don’t know.” It’s a spacey answer, Beca knows. “Cabin fever, I guess.”

She watches Chloe pick up the dice and then set them down again. “Do we need to talk about what happened?”

“What?” Beca says quickly, but she already knows what Chloe’s talking about.

Chloe kind of shrugs and offers a shy smile. “I don’t know about you, but I really haven’t been able to stop thinking about what we did.”

The statement makes Beca hold her breath as thoughts race through her mind and all ways she could respond and the consequences (benefits?) that could follow. She holds it until she can’t anymore and exhales. “Me neither. Wait, do you mean you can’t stop thinking about it because you wish we hadn’t?”

“No, Beca,” Chloe laughs. “Calm down. I really liked it. It was fun.” She shrugs again and slides her chair back from the table a few inches, something that makes Beca’s heart skip a beat. “It was nice to share that with you.”

“Oh.” Beca feels a smile tug at her lips. “Cool. Yeah.”

“Is this us talking about it?” Chloe asks.

“I thought we just did.”

Chloe leans forward to put her elbows on the table and prop her chin on her folded hands, a move that feels entirely conspiratorial and it makes Beca slide her own chair backward. “I guess that means you were worried I had some regrets?”

It’s Beca’s turn to shrug and she picks at her nails to avoid having to make eye contact. 

“Does that mean you liked it?”

“I mean…yeah,” she mumbles, feeling her face start to heat up.

“Does that mean you’d be open to doing it again?”

That pulls her attention back to Chloe who is looking at her with bright eyes and a bottom lip snared between her teeth, nervous while she awaits Beca’s answer. It takes everything in her to not just dive back into bed and kick off her sweatpants. Instead, she tries to swallow and push her stomach back down in the correct place. “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t be opposed.” She hopes she sounds chill about it. Take or leave it. She’s willing to do it if Chloe wants to do it. Because that’s what friends do for each other.

She watches Chloe sit back at her response, her nails rapping rhythmically on the table.

It’s silent for an ungodly long time.

“Would you maybe want to do it right—”

Beca’s already halfway to the bed. “Turn off the light.”

* * *

It doesn’t feel like a taboo topic after the second time.

It would be hypocritical if it was; the first time had snuck up out of nowhere fueled by a racy, late-night conversation.

The second time was at 3:00 in the afternoon and turning the light off made little difference in how dark the room was. (It was not dark. At all.) It was a direct proposition that Beca readily agreed to.

She does have to suffer a few minutes of teasing afterward; she came so quickly that she had to lay there with Chloe for several minutes trying not to be obvious about watching while she brought herself to climax.

But after the teasing, they settle into their evening routine of making dinner together while singing along to Beca’s weekly playlist. They eat together at the table and clean the kitchen and collapse their bed back to a couch so they can sit and watch whatever movie Chloe picks to watch on Beca’s laptop propped on a chair in front of them. 

It’s a thing that happened. Twice. And it’s fine.

* * *

It happens again the next morning.

Beca doesn’t even know what—or who—started it.

One second, Chloe was stretching and saying good morning and the next, they’re touching themselves beneath the shared blanket.

She can feel Chloe’s foot resting against her own and the way it moves and flexes with the rising and falling of Chloe’s voice.

Beca forgets to try to be quiet.

* * *

It kind of becomes a thing after that. It’s an activity they share like working on a puzzle, a board game, reading time, or going for a walk. It’s something that gets suggested as one suggests checking out a new documentary.

“This isn’t really something friends do,” she says (for some dumb reason) after she suggests it.

“Says who?” Chloe asks, already lying down in bed.

“I don’t know. Society.”

“Society has collapsed.” Chloe says it so ominously Beca can’t help but laugh. Because it’s true. What are social norms anyway?

* * *

Beca doesn’t let herself think about how normal it’s beginning to feel. When she thinks about the arrangement ending whenever life returns to some version of its former self, it bothers her. She doesn’t like that it bothers her.

So instead, she focuses on the present.

And at present, Chloe’s using Beca’s lap for a pillow while they read on the couch, Beca tucked into one end to give Chloe space to lie down along the rest of it, even though her feet have to perch on the other end of it.

One of her instrumental playlists is going, something mellow and kind of ambient and she’s absentmindedly playing with Chloe’s hair, listening to the way she sighs now and then and the quiet sound of turning pages.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?” She looks down when she feels Chloe’s eyes on her.

“Would you mind if I…?” She glances down herself as if Beca couldn’t figure out what she was asking.

It does make Beca hesitate, though. She asked if _she_ could do it. Not if _they_ could do it. It’s never been a solo event. Solo, but mutual.

The very concept turns Beca on. 

“Have at it,” she says, knowing Chloe can see right through her dismissive comment by the way she smirks up at her.

She pretends she’s not watching as Chloe drops her book to the floor so her right hand can slip down the front of the shorts she’s wearing while her left arm rests across her middle.

She pretends she’s not watching the way she can see the movement of Chloe’s hand between her legs, slow, subtle movements that are accompanied by quiet sighs. She’s not watching when Chloe’s other hand slips under the edge of her shirt and begins to inch higher, revealing more and more of her stomach to Beca—not that she’s watching—until Beca catches a glimpse of the lower curve of a bare breast just as Chloe’s hand covers it. 

She pretends she’s reading fastidiously, still playing with Chloe’s hair, paying no attention to the fact that Chloe is masturbating in plain sight right next to her. No, not next to her: _on_ her. Her head is still on her thigh and if she were to do something like moving it to make room for her own hand, Chloe would feel it. So she can’t.

She pretends that her underwear isn’t already soaked-through when Chloe moans, her hand visibly moving faster. She tries to act like she’s not staring, her own book forgotten and being set aside to watch. Tries not to like how when Chloe opens her eyes to look at her and sees her watching, she smiles and closes her eyes and touches herself more quickly.

She tries not to think about how she has her hand tangled in Chloe’s hair and how she learned that Chloe likes having her hair pulled and how her fingers start to curl into it until they meet resistance, and then she tightens them further until she knows it’s pulling. 

Chloe gasps and she looks up at Beca again but this time she doesn’t look away, nor does Beca even as Chloe comes with a broken moan and she tries not to think about how she did something she knew Chloe likes during sex because she knew it would turn her on.

She explicitly did something to help her best friend get off—in a different way than they have been—and she doesn’t know what to do with that information.

She removes her hand once Chloe calms down only to have nowhere to put it that doesn’t feel awkward since Chloe’s head is right where it would rest so she has no choice but to return it to its original resting place where it resumes playing lightly. While Chloe is still working on slowing her breathing and is tugging her shirt back into place.

Beca picks up her book again and flips it open to a page—she has no idea if it’s the page she stopped on—and stares at it, her heart pounding and core aching as she tries to act normal because what happened is a totally normal thing for friends to do.

“Thanks,” Chloe says, interrupting her thoughts with her light, airy voice. “That felt awes.”

Beca has to wet her lips before replying, “Cool.”

“B-R-B!” Chloe says as she rolls off the couch to land on her hands and knees on the floor and she pops up with an unfair amount of energy. She disappears into the bathroom and Beca sets down her book again and closes her eyes to breathe.

She doesn’t understand what just happened. She doesn’t know if it was okay, but Chloe doesn’t seem upset by it. In fact, it seemed very much like she liked it. Enjoyed it, even. What Beca does understand is that she wanted to help Chloe get off, and doing so was a turn on.

She has to decide if she’s going to suffer and let her arousal fade or ask for a moment for her own release.

When Chloe returns, almost skipping back to the couch to hop onto it on her knees to kiss Beca’s cheek as though she’d been gone all day and not three minutes, Beca decides to ignore the demands her body is making.

They’re not supposed to be turned on by each other. Not like that.

“I’m so tight from being cooped up all day. I think I’m gonna do some yoga to stretch out. That okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Beca says, relieved that Chloe is going to be doing her own thing for a while so Beca and work on turning down her thermostat. She pauses the playlist so Chloe can put on one of her yoga videos.

But she’d forgotten two important facts, though: 1) that Chloe would change clothes for this (Well, she doesn’t change clothes. She sheds her shirt, leaving her topless while she tugs a sports bra over her head.), and 2) that Chloe would be doing yoga on the floor right in front of Beca.

Chloe and her body, its strong lines and firm muscle stretching and bending, her back to Beca who had intended to use this time to stop being horny and instead she’s struggling to not touch herself while Chloe does all her sexy, slow bending.

It’s torturous.

She makes it an hour after Chloe rolls up her yoga mat before she breaks and asks to have her own moment. Chloe approves and Beca doesn’t even hide under a blanket.

She touches herself—fully dressed, of course, they’re just friends—while Chloe texts on her phone from the other end of the couch.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes to check, but she knows Chloe isn’t really texting. She can’t hear her thumbs moving over the keys or the messages sending and receiving, and Chloe never turns off that irritating sound that Beca’s learned to tune out over the years.

She can sense Chloe’s eyes on her and she can feel how much wetter that makes her.

She’ll deal with the reasons behind that later.

* * *

She kind of starts to stop caring about whether or not something she does is okay after that. 

Chloe seems to have come to a similar decision and Beca actually gawks the first time Chloe takes off her shirt completely during one of their simultaneous sessions.

Chloe winks at her as she does it—she _winks_ at her—and Beca struggles to control how quickly she’s going to come.

She’s learned that coming with Chloe is infinitely better than coming without her.

* * *

“This is so depressing,” Beca says as she crosses off another day on the wall calendar, marking the days since the lockdown began. They’ve reached Week 6 and though there are glimpses of hope of a return to normalcy on the horizon, they still have a long way to go.

“We just have to keep trying to focus on good things and not the bad,” Chloe chirps from the bed. She had yet to get up, having declared it a day of rest because, apparently, it was Sunday.

Beca couldn’t keep track of days anymore if not for her phone or the calendar. “Yeah, I guess,” she says, letting the pen that hangs, affixed to a string on the nail that holds up the calendar, drop to the wall. She knows there are much worse scenarios she could be in. One of them is having their dear roommate Amy present throughout this ordeal.

“Now make me a coffee and then come cuddle,” Chloe says and Beca doesn’t have to look to know she’s making puppy eyes at her.

She can never resist that. Not that she would want to.

* * *

“What are we doing for this day of rest?” she asks once they both have cups of coffee on their respective nightstands, along with buttered toast Beca had decided to make for them.

They’re both propped up in bed in their pajamas, having stolen Amy’s pillows a few weeks ago to cushion them against the metal rails in the structure of the pull-out couch. The new flatscreen television and AppleTV Beca had broken down and ordered online sometime in Week 4 sits somewhat precariously on a stand they fashioned out of overturned chairs and Chloe’s underbed shoe storage container. They haven’t owned a television since they lived in Atlanta; there’s really no room in the apartment for one when three people are there, but with just the two of them they made it work.

“Well, since you’re feeling sad—”

Beca feels a little defensive. “I’m not feeling sad.” 

“It’s okay to feel down, Bec,” Chloe says with a gentle pat to Beca’s leg. “Let’s do something that _you_ want to do.”

Something about Chloe’s suggestion makes Beca’s mind wander, but she knows Chloe is referring to normal platonic activities.

Not certain other normal platonic activities they’ve been engaging in that result in simultaneous orgasms.

“Well, there are just so many options; I’m overwhelmed with choices,” she says dryly, though she manages a smile when Chloe nudges her shoulder with her own. “I guess let’s watch a movie. You always pick good movies; find something sad. And no mocking me if I cry.”

“I would never,” Chloe says, and Beca knows in her heart that she won’t.

Beca doesn’t cry...well...maybe she tears up a little at the end of _The Notebook_ but no one could blame her for that.

It helps, though. She hasn’t had her usual time alone to get mad or sad about things in life and it’s all been weighing on her. It’s nice to lean into Chloe’s side when she invites her in to cuddle and be sad without having to talk about it. Chloe’s always been that way, intuitive enough to know when to push Beca to talk about her feelings and when to simply be a quiet presence.

Beca knows Chloe is starting to coddle her when she announces she’s making breakfast for dinner. It’s Beca’s favorite. And she indulges in it for the evening; it’s incredibly comforting to feel cared for when everything feels scary and uncertain. It’s nice to have someone she loves set a mug of hot cocoa in front of her, piled high with spiraling whipped cream, and be laughed at when she intentionally gets it on her nose while taking a sip.

It’s soothing to crawl into bed and feel Chloe move in behind her to start playing with her hair.

Chloe never asks Beca to talk about whatever might be on her mind, and Beca knows Chloe is there to listen if she does want to talk.

But for now, she wants to settle heavily into the bed and sigh as Chloe’s fingernails scratch over her scalp and down the back of her neck to make her shiver. She wants to close her eyes and feel the warmth from Chloe’s proximity and listen to her quiet breathing and forget about everything else.

It’s so easy to sink into it. Chloe’s fingertips feel so nice where they trace the shell of her ear and the sensitive skin behind it. Where they swirl in slow patterns down her neck and along the back of her shoulder until they’re lightly dancing down the length of Beca’s arm where they play with her fingers, Beca parting them to let Chloe’s fit in the empty spaces. They stay that way for a moment before the journey reverses.

Beca can feel the way goosebumps rise on her arm and she hears Chloe’s quiet chuckle at Beca’s physical response.

It’s not the only physical response she’s experiencing, however.

For as nonspecifically sad as she’s felt all day, Chloe doting on her to try to lift her spirits or at least comfort her, especially now while Chloe is quite literally petting her, Beca’s finding it all to have the unfortunate side effect of sexual arousal.

Admittedly, they have been sharing several normally private moments. It’s felt a lot like “What Happens in Self-Isolation Stays in Self-Isolation,” and they’ve each prompted such moments multiple times. Not that Beca’s been officially counting or comparing, but she’s fairly certain she’s been masturbating more often in this situation, with Chloe, than she ever did before it by herself.

There’s not much else to do, though. She can only handle so much video entertainment per day and she’s limited on how much work she can do with only having her laptop and a couple of small pieces of equipment at home. It’s a distraction and a fun one that feels good during and after. One that she’s starting to want to experience more and more frequently.

Like now, for example, as Chloe’s fingernails graze over the soft skin below her ear with her body fitting so closely to Beca’s.

She clears her throat. “Chlo?”

“Hmm?”

“I need a moment.”

It’s become their code after too many stuttering, vague hints. It’s non-threatening and otherwise innocuous but they both know what it means.

She hears Chloe hum and her touch disappears, only to return a few seconds later. “Okay.”

Beca’s acutely aware that Chloe is still touching her and not moving away to give her space, something to-date they have almost always done. Except for that one time that Beca pulled Chloe’s hair.

The fact that she’s not retreating after accepting Beca’s request makes Beca’s heart race. Chloe hasn’t touched her while doing it. Not really, not more than the most casual of touches, almost accidental. It’s not like when Beca was playing with her hair; they’re much closer now. Beca can feel Chloe against her back and the way she fits into the bend at Chloe’s waist.

The closeness makes Beca’s face hot and her palms sweat and as desperate as she suddenly finds herself to seek out relief, she’s incredibly nervous. She must be tense because she feels Chloe’s fingers massage the sides of her neck.

“I can move?” Chloe asks quietly.

Beca doesn’t know how to answer.

Then, hesitantly, “...Or I could stay?”

Beca hesitates, too, and then decides that this situation, the entire scenario they’ve found themselves in is an alternate reality and societal rules and norms don’t matter anymore. 

She nods and feels more than hears Chloe sigh, warm breath drifting across her bare neck and ear and it makes every hair on Beca’s body stand on-end and makes her heart race.

She has to shift a little and she can feel Chloe behind her with every move she makes. She’s not positive, but she thinks Chloe might have moved closer than she had been because she even feels her knee behind her own as she shifts her legs apart enough to fit her hand between them.

She doesn’t bother with any type of build-up. What had been given to her for relaxation had been all the foreplay she needs and she slips her hand down the front of her shorts and underwear and feels how wet she really is.

Beca must react to her own touch in some way because she hears Chloe sigh behind her and feels the way the massaging of her neck turns lighter, more heavy touching than massaging.

She feels what few boundaries that still exist between them be reduced even further when she starts teasing her clit while Chloe’s fingers dance along her shoulder and arm. It’s the same arm Beca’s using to touch herself and the further Chloe’s hand travels down her arm, the quicker it makes her breathe.

Chloe shifts behind her, hips pressing forward into Beca and it forces the moan she’s been holding back to escape and she hears Chloe echo it in her ear.

It doesn’t happen just once. Chloe does it again, and again until it’s a rhythm that has Beca almost riding her own hand with how their hips are moving together. She knows that Chloe knows what she’s doing. Beca had confessed something to her and she knows Chloe didn’t forget. She’s doing what she’s doing because she knows Beca likes it.

Chloe feels so hot behind her and the hand she has on Beca is restless as it travels up and down her arm and Beca has the distinct thought that it feels like it’s a caged animal pacing to be released, trapped within the boundaries of only touching neutral areas of Beca.

She wants to tell Chloe to touch her.

She wants to twist her shoulders and roll over and drag Chloe’s hand between her legs the way she’s been imagining it for so, so long.

Instead, she digs her fingers into the pillow and works those of her other hand faster against herself.

Chloe’s hand finally breaks away from Beca’s arm and she feels it on her hip, holding her as they move together. Chloe’s moaning, too, and Beca can’t tell if she’s doing anything to touch herself or not; she’s too caught up in the way it feels to have Chloe’s hips rolling into her ass again and again to help Beca fuck herself faster and faster until Beca’s crying out in ecstasy and teeth sink into her bare shoulder as Chloe’s muffled moan rings out behind her, shuddering together.

She doesn’t realize until her breathing begins to slow that Chloe’s hand is no longer on her hip. It’s on her wrist. Which is under her shorts. In her underwear. Any lower and Chloe would be able to feel how wet the experience has made her.

Beca wonders if it had gone on much longer if Chloe would have been the one to push further and cross that final boundary line.

She wonders what that means, that Chloe has pushed so far already. If it’s just the passion of the moment or if it’s something more.

The lips that touch her shoulder over the sore mark make her think that maybe, just maybe, it could be something more.

“God, Beca,” Chloe whispers and Beca feels her hand move with uncertainty, like Chloe’s fighting with herself what to do until it’s retreating and her body scoots back an inch or two to let cool air in between their overheated bodies. “You are so…” She doesn’t finish the sentence but Beca feels her forehead press against the back of her head as she exhales heavily. There’s a hand in her hair, too. It’s not doing anything with purpose, but she feels it.

She wants to ask how Chloe was going to finish her sentence, but instead, she hears a quiet, “I love you.”

Chloe tells her she loves her all the time. Daily. Multiple times per day, even. When Beca refills her water bottle or brings her her phone that she left on the counter, or cracks an especially good joke.

It sounds different this time. Something about it makes her brain—and heart—respond to it and she feels the beginnings of the panicked need to flee set in until she realizes she has nowhere to flee to. She is home. With Chloe. Where she will be for the foreseeable future. Where time is fake and rules don’t exist and there’s no such thing as “normal” and she gets to play house with the only person she’s ever wanted to play house with.

The panic recedes and she removes her hand from her shorts where it had remained while they cooled off and uses it to reach for Chloe. It’s her only free hand; she’s laying on her right arm. She doesn’t even think about—or maybe she doesn’t care—how her fingers are still wet when she finds and grabs Chloe’s forearm to wrap it around her waist.

Chloe’s breath catches and if it’s from the demanded embrace or from the way Beca’s fingers slip against her skin for a brief moment, there’s no way to know. Chloe doesn’t say anything; she just tucks her own fingers between Beca’s waist and the bed.

“I love you, too,” Beca allows herself to reply.

* * *

“Do you think this is what it’s like in frat houses?”

“What?” Beca asks before biting her lip and moaning.

“Guys jerking off everywhere all the time.”

She feels herself grimace and tries instead to focus on how little of Chloe is concealed by her panties and hand. “Why are you making me think about that right now?”

Chloe laughs and Beca watches her fingers speed up. “Because we’re doing this at the table in the middle of breakfast. Feels like a guy thing. Also, your tits are super great.”

Beca just arches an eyebrow at her. So maybe she is topless at the table because she decided she’d take off her shirt when Chloe said she needed a moment in the middle of pouring syrup on her French toast. Maybe they’re both kicked back in the uncomfortable metal folding chairs they use for eating (because the slightly nicer, sturdier ones are the base for their TV stand) touching themselves. Maybe Chloe hadn’t put on any shorts or pants that morning and her legs are parted and she’s watching Beca watch her.

“That was definitely a guy thing to say.”

Maybe they’re having a normal, platonic conversation while they fuck themselves. There’s a lot of things that have happened in the past seven weeks that Beca would have never thought she would experience. Repeatedly and shamelessly masturbating with her friend ranks high on that list of “will nevers.”

“I’m admiring them in a super gay way, don’t worry,” Chloe says before her breath hitches and her hips start to try to move.

“That’s fine, then,” Beca says.

There’s no more talking after that.

Not until Chloe’s moaning out curse words and Beca’s just moaning.

* * *

“Why don’t we just go for it?”

“Go for what?” Beca looks up from her hand of Uno cards; it’s overstacked thanks to Chloe managing to drop three Draw Fours on her and she’s trying to plot out the best plan of attack to dump the numerous yellow cards she’s collected onto the pile in the middle of the bed between them.

“Need a moment,” Chloe says almost dismissively and gains Beca’s full attention.

“Okay...what do you mean by, ‘Why don’t we just go for it?’”

“I don’t know. Like, we’re always trying to somehow still be modest but we’re literally watching each other.” Chloe shrugs and it shouldn’t look as innocent as it does, considering the topic of conversation. “It’s like porn. But still with clothes.”

Beca can’t help but smile; it’s all so absurd. “I was literally topless at the breakfast table yesterday. And you weren’t wearing pants.”

“I know. But like, why were you wearing pants? Why was I still wearing my hoodie?” Chloe tugs at that same hoodie now and Beca fully expects her to remove it, though she does not. “Why are we even pretending that we have any shame at this point?”

“Oh, my God,” Beca laughs. “So you just want to be naked.”

Chloe shrugs. “Well, yeah. If you’re my porn, I want to see you.”

“ _I’m_ your porn?!” Beca blurts, in disbelief, really, that this is even a real conversation. 

Chloe tilts her head and appears hurt. “Am I not yours?”

She feels her mouth hanging up and snaps it closed. “Yeah, I guess so.” Chloe’s more than her porn. She’s every single fantasy she’s ever had rolled up into one being. “I feel like I should feel guilty about that.”

“Why?” Chloe tosses her entire hand of cards onto the discard pile and Beca knows they’re finished playing Uno. “I told you I like being watched.”

“Yeah, but you’re my friend.” Beca regrets it the moment she says it. They’ve developed an unspoken agreement to stop applying traditional principles to themselves while in the situation they are in.

She sees it on Chloe’s face, the disappointment. Followed by determination. “Take off your shirt. Give me your cards.” She’s already gathering up the game, aligning the cards to stuff them back into the box and Beca surrenders her own.

She surrenders her shirt, too, as requested, and watches as Chloe steals glances at her while she finishes putting away the game until she’s tugging her hoodie over her head to toss it on the floor. 

“Well?” Chloe asks, thumbs hooked under the waistband of her flannel pants. “Yes or no?”

Beca can’t believe it’s even a question, but she knows she’s the one who threw in the wrench of hesitation. “Yeah,” she says with a nod as she shifts to remove her own sweatpants.

It’s not that they’ve never seen each other naked before; they see each other naked _all_ the time. But this is different; this time, they’re in bed wearing nothing but underwear because Chloe wants to look at Beca’s nude body while they masturbate together.

Beca’s the first one to start slipping her underwear off her hips and down, and she’s painfully (achingly) aware that Chloe’s watching her do it, so she jokingly spins them around her finger to toss them across the room. It succeeds in making Chloe laugh, which she desperately needed to hear after their tiny hiccup. “Well, if I’m your porn…” she says, finding unexpected confidence under Chloe’s appreciative gaze.

Chloe nods and Beca watches her slip her own underwear down to drop them to the floor.

“What kind of porn are you looking for?”

She truly, genuinely doesn’t know where it’s coming from. It feels like she’s been somehow possessed by an alternate version of herself, but maybe it’s just who she is in this strange alternate reality they’ve found themselves in. She’s sitting in bed, naked, across from her equally naked roommate, hugging her knees to her chest but finding herself wanting to part them to let Chloe see.

But Chloe’s eyes are on Beca’s, and they are suddenly so, so dark. “What do you mean?”

She does part her knees a little, then; the intrigue and excitement of performing in some way creeping up on her like a shot of tequila. “What are your search terms?” she says, arching an eyebrow at Chloe. She lets her own eyes wander a little after the question, at how soft Chloe’s breasts look and how stiff her nipples already are. She doesn’t let herself look lower, though; she can see enough.

She hears Chloe take a breath and hold it and she knows she’s trying to get a read on Beca and what their shared intentions are.

“Vibrators.”

Beca feels her eyebrows shoot up and she sees the surprising but still welcome concern on Chloe’s face that came with her answer. She wants Beca to be okay with it and Beca knows if she’s not, Chloe will let it go.

But Beca is okay with it. She is like, _so_ okay with it. She’s been using her hands for so long because she was too shy to ask Chloe about trying something else. Which might be why she decided to take them down this path. “Okay,” she says, having to turn around and bend down to fetch her personal toy from its drawer next to the bed. She hopes it’s charged; she hasn’t had it plugged in for weeks.

“Okay?” Chloe sounds surprised and is wide-eyed when Beca turns back, purple vibrator in-hand.

“If I’m your entertainment,” she says, “then...consider me on-demand.” It might have sounded corny but just saying the words turned her on. She’s suddenly aroused by the concept of sexually performing to satisfy Chloe’s desires. She’s aroused by the concept that Chloe wants to watch her for sexual gratification.

Chloe seems to deflate, but it’s from the way she’s exhaling and almost closing in on herself before she’s closing her eyes burying her fingers in her own hair and Beca can see the way she’s tugging on it before she flat-out groans. “Lay down,” she says after a few more seconds and looks up as soon as Beca starts moving.

It makes Beca’s pulse race to hear Chloe tell her what to do. It makes her wet, too, and she knows wetness is going to be streaking her thighs soon. “Tell me what you want,” Beca says. She wants Chloe to simply answer, ‘You.’

Instead, Chloe says, “Turn it on and tease yourself,” as she moves onto her knees to crawl over until she’s kneeling at Beca’s feet.

Beca notes that she’s not kneeling primly with her hands folded in her lap; her knees are parted and even though she’s a few feet away, Beca can...yeah, she can look and see the contours between Chloe’s legs, and her hands are resting on her thighs. 

Her thumb finds the power button easily and presses it. It buzzes to life and she feels herself grow instantly wetter, both at the sound and the way Chloe’s breasts rise and fall more quickly when her breathing speeds up. And perhaps because Chloe’s telling her what to do.

“Tease myself?” she questions even as she starts to move the toy down, not quite recognizing her own voice.

Chloe nods and Beca can see the way her fingernails are pressing into her thighs. The way there’s already a light pink flush on her chest.

Beca’s not quite ready for how intense the vibration feels after not experiencing it in so long, despite having it on the lowest setting. The tip of it grazes between her legs and she tries to gasp and moan at the same time, resulting in a somewhat embarrassing choked sound and her eyes slamming closed.

She doesn’t have time to deal with being embarrassed, though. Not with the way Chloe sighs, “Oh, wow.”

Beca’s scared her heart might pound right out of her chest. Or give out altogether. “Like this?” she asks as she teases the vibrator against her clit, touching it and removing it, slipping it up and down and taking it away. She suddenly becomes extraordinarily self-aware that Chloe’s eyes are surely fixed between her legs.

It makes Beca want to part her legs further than the little she had when she laid down. So she does. She inches them wider until she bends her left knee to be able to open herself comfortably.

Chloe’s voice makes it to her ears. “Just like that.” The sound of Chloe moaning quietly also makes it to her ears and she forces her eyes open to look.

She wants to see what this is doing for Chloe. 

But she’s not ready for it. She’s not ready to see Chloe on her knees, still very, very nude, with one hand between her legs and the other playing with her nipple. She’s not ready to see the way Chloe’s fingers are moving over a visible clit and the way it all glistens in the dim light and how Chloe’s eyes are fixated between Beca’s legs.

It makes her moan and her hips roll, pushing her clit against the vibrator to make her moan again. She watches Chloe’s hips roll, too, in response.

“Keep going,” Chloe says, voice low and unfamiliar like Beca’s own. Her hips don’t stop rolling, though. She sets a slow pace and Beca starts to follow it, holding the lightly vibrating toy against herself.

She doesn’t think she will be able to last very long; she’s not sure she’s ever been as turned on as she is in this exact moment. She can feel how wet she is and how easily the vibrator slides against her. Worse, she’s starting to be able to hear it.

She wonders if Chloe hears it, too, because she says, “Now fuck yourself with it.”

Beca feels like someone threw a bucket of hot coals on her body. Everything is suddenly on fire and all she can do is whimper at the request. She feels as pathetic as she feels powerful, though. She’s ultimately in control, even if she’s allowing Chloe to tell her what to do, and the trust and surrender that encompass that make for a heady experience.

She honestly can’t believe she’s doing it, but she does it. She even manages to open her eyes to keep them fixed on Chloe as she tilts the vibrator and slides it down to her entrance and back up a few times to coat it with wetness before she’s slipping it inside herself, each inch making her have to try harder to not just break into orgasm until it’s fully buried.

Beca already feels like she’s out of her mind, and Chloe doesn’t seem too far behind. She watches as Chloe’s hand dips further between her legs and she knows Chloe’s slipping her fingers into herself like Beca’s doing with the vibrator.

She clenches around the toy and it makes her hips jump.

“Oh, my God, Beca,” Chloe moans and Beca watches her start fully riding her hand, her free hand flailing for a few seconds before it lands on her own knee.

Beca knows she needs something to stabilize herself. She almost tells Chloe to just crawl forward and straddle her face and hold on to the back of the couch.

The thought of it makes her drag the vibrator out and she hears Chloe’s empathetic moan at the sight, which only makes Beca wetter still. She presses back in and Chloe moans again.

Beca moans, too.

It kills her to do it, but she can’t keep her head lifted any longer to watch Chloe. She won’t be able to keep herself from coming if she’s fucking herself and watching Chloe doing the same. Not like this. This is all so raw and visceral. It’s never felt like this. Not with Chloe. Not with anyone.

She doesn’t wait for Chloe’s instruction. Her thumb finds the correct button at the base of the toy and presses it to turn up the vibration strength, immediately groaning at the added stimulation.

“Just like that,” Chloe breathes and Beca feels herself swell with pride at the knowledge that Chloe likes it. “You look so good.”

It makes Beca part her legs wider and her foot bumps Chloe’s knee in the process. It seems to make both of them pause for a brief second and Beca decides to leave it there. She chooses, again, to touch Chloe in some way while they do this. While she pumps her vibrator in and out of herself steadily.

“God, you’re so wet, I can see it,” Chloe groans.

Beca just nods and brings her free hand to herself to tend to her now-neglected clit. She rubs it with precision and the combination draws a particularly sinful moan out of her. She’s going to lose it soon, especially if Chloe keeps moaning the way she is. Beca can feel her, too. She can feel it in the way the bed moves and how her leg shifts against Beca’s foot how fast Chloe’s hips are moving.

It spurs Beca’s on, too, and she works the toy more quickly, thumbing the button to kick it up again, desperate for more of everything. She almost shudders with the new intensity and has to clench against it to hold off once again, just holding it deep inside herself until the urge to come lessens.

“Don’t stop,” Chloe says and she sounds so desperate Beca almost comes just from that.

Instead, she nods and starts thrusting into herself only for— 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” she groans, dragging the vibrator out of herself.

“What? What’s wrong?” Chloe asks, sounding so breathless.

Beca looks at her and memorizes it all; Chloe’s never looked so aroused and positively wild and Beca’s pretty sure she probably looks much the same. Then she looks at the toy and clicks the power button, only for it to not respond. No light. No buzz. Nothing.

“It died.”

Chloe’s, “What?” is an airy laugh, almost like she can’t believe it.

“It hasn’t been charged in two months,” she explains. Then feels like there are way too many words being shared. “I can still…” she finishes, moving it back between her legs, intending to use it as a simple dildo instead.

“No,” Chloe says and Beca’s shocked when her hand, the one holding the vibrator, is suddenly in Chloe’s grasp, her hand around Beca’s around the base of the toy. Her other hand is still between her legs but she’s no longer moving her hips.

Beca swallows hard. She knows something is going to happen. It looms with inevitability and has been for weeks. Or months. Years, maybe. She thinks the moment might have finally arrived.

“Lesbians.”

Beca has to shake her head to clear her thoughts. “What?”

“My search terms: lesbians.”

Beca just stares at her. She’s trying to prepare herself but it feels impossible.

“Lesbian sex.”

She hears herself whimper and somehow feels heavier, like she could sink into bed at any moment.

“Lesbian sex best friends.”

Beca’s entire stomach flips. “That’s what you want to watch?” she manages to say.

Chloe’s nod is tentative, almost shy despite what’s been transpiring between them for the last many minutes.

Beca feels herself nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

She watches the way Chloe rushes forward and she drops the toy somewhere in the bed so she can drag her nails down Chloe’s back the second she’s on top of her, hips between Beca’s open legs.

Chloe stops short, though. Her lips are hovering millimeters from Beca’s. 

It’s Beca who lifts her head to kiss her.

It feels like fire.

It’s hot and aggressive and Chloe’s hips are already rolling against Beca who worries for a quarter of a second that this might be over way too fast before she stops caring about that. Chloe’s on top of her, hips grinding against Beca while they devour one another’s kiss and it’s all Beca can do to hold on, to wrap her legs around Chloe’s waist and bury her hands in her hair and meet Chloe’s tongue stroke for stroke.

“I want to touch you,” Chloe says against her lips and all Beca can do to respond is nod because Chloe’s sucking on her tongue.

She feels Chloe’s weight shift and she knows why. Chloe needs her hand because she’s going to touch Beca.

Beca also has to drop her legs back to the bed again and she feels Chloe shift until she’s straddling Beca’s thigh, hot wetness pressing against it to make Beca moan. She can’t believe she’s feeling that part of Chloe on her body. She can’t believe that Chloe’s trying to distract Beca with the way she’s kissing her as if Beca won’t notice that her hand is skating down her body, touching but not lingering on her breasts before swiftly moving between her legs.

“Fuck, Chloe,” she whines, on the edge of orgasm once again.

She can feel Chloe working herself against her thigh and it only makes it all the more difficult for Beca to hold on. She digs her nails into Chloe’s shoulders to hold on as Chloe’s fingers move over her with a level of reverence Beca really doesn’t have the patience for right now.

“You’re so wet,” Chloe breathes into her mouth before kissing her again, fingers moving through that wetness until they’re starting to work in circles against her.

Beca doesn’t stand a chance and she knows it.

She just holds on and tries to focus more on how Chloe feels working herself on Beca’s thigh than she does on the way Chloe’s playing with her clit. 

She can hear herself but it’s almost drowned out by Chloe’s own desperate moans. Beca wants to hear more of it so she turns her face away, not because she doesn’t want to kiss her anymore but because she wants to hear her. And it’s getting increasingly difficult to breathe.

Chloe moaning her name in her ear is what does it.

Her climax hits her hard and with little warning and she hears an, “Oh, my God, yes,” moaned, too, and she knows Chloe’s coming with her. She knows because she can feel it in how arousal is dripping down the outside of her thigh just like her own is dripping between her legs. She knows because she’s heard Chloe come so many times in the past month she knows every nuance of her voice and breath and the way her body almost shakes with release and she can hear that and feel all of that now.

It lasts for so long Beca’s not sure she’s not coming twice back-to-back. She doesn’t care what it is, though. She just holds on to Chloe and lets the pleasure and ecstasy wash over her again and again until Chloe’s laying heavily against her. 

Her face is in Beca’s neck and she can feel her there kissing it tiredly, the occasional graze of a tongue drawing a shiver out of her.

Her hand is still between Beca’s legs. It’s at rest but Beca is acutely aware of its presence until it’s retreating. She feels it dragging up her stomach, can feel the wetness that travels with it, and her breath sticks in her throat when she feels those same wet fingers find her left nipple to start teasing it.

It makes her jaw drop; it’s so sensual and sexual and her back arches into the touch.

Chloe lifts her head at her movement and looks down at her, the first eye contact they’ve made since they kissed. Beca can see there’s a question of some kind in her eyes; she hopes it’s a question that Beca wants to respond to in agreement. But for now, she just wants Chloe to keep touching her.

“That feels…” Her voice cuts off when Chloe’s fingers pinch and then pull until her wet nipple slips from Chloe’s grip. “Oh, my God.”

“Good?” Chloe says with a lazy smile.

Beca nods and melts into the kiss that Chloe presses to her mouth. She’s just settling into the kiss when Chloe ends it and moves away. She’s about to be disappointed when Chloe’s other hand sneaks under her chin to push it up and away so Chloe can kiss her throat. Beca feels a mark being left and she’s thrilled she won’t have to worry about anyone at work seeing it.

Chloe keeps moving, though, and her heart starts to race again as her lips travel over her collarbone until they’re moving up the hill of her breast.

Beca knows what’s coming but no fantasy could prepare her for what it feels like for Chloe to take her nipple into her mouth, tongue moving over it languidly. A moan follows and it’s Chloe’s, not Beca’s. Beca’s is stuck in her throat.

“I can taste you,” Chloe exhales when she lets Beca’s achingly hard nipple slip from her lips. “So good.”

Beca’s moan finally finds its way out at those words and she brings her hand up to push her fingers into Chloe’s hair again. “Don’t stop,” she says, breath already quickening.

She’s certain she’s never been so aroused before. She’s also certain she’s never had sex like this in her life. She hears Chloe’s agreement to not stop, though it’s little more than a hum as her tongue and lips play with Beca’s nipple, teasing and sucking and nipping gently to make Beca gasp.

She’s quickly desperate again and she’s about to ask Chloe for more when she has the stark realization that she hasn’t touched Chloe at all. Not more than her back and shoulders and hair.

If Chloe notices that Beca’s working her arm between their bodies, she doesn’t react to it. Beca knows she’s hyper-focused on what she’s doing; her nipple is so over-stimulated that it’s almost starting to hurt but she never wants Chloe to stop sucking on it. Not for anything. She wants her to do it forever.

She has to push her own hips down into the bed to be able to fit her hand between her leg and Chloe.

It doesn’t allow for fanfare or gradual teasing but Beca doesn’t care. What she cares about is the surprised-sounding moan that comes from Chloe, even with Beca’s nipple still in her mouth, and the way her hips lift to give Beca’s hand more room. What she cares about is how slick and hot Chloe is and that she’s finally touching her, finally hearing what she sounds like because of the way Beca’s fingers brush over her clit.

Chloe’s teeth connect again and it makes Beca hiss. “Other one, maybe?” she says with a gentle tug on Chloe’s hair that generates another moan from Chloe.

She’d almost forgotten Chloe likes her hair being pulled. _Almost._ She glances down and almost feels faint at the look of ecstasy on Chloe’s face, eyes closed and face flushed and lips parted as she moves. She doesn’t even open her eyes as her hand cups Beca’s other breast to push it up to bring its nipple to her lips.

It’s been so deprived compared to the other that Beca can scarcely breathe from the contact. She can’t take her eyes off it though. Can’t look away from how it looks to have Chloe’s hair between her fingers, to have Chloe’s hand on her breast, to have her nipple in Chloe’s mouth.

It’s so mesmerizing she forgets she’d had other plans until Chloe moans and pushes herself against Beca’s fingers.

Beca can feel her need and she tucks two fingers together and reaches to find Chloe’s entrance and she lets Chloe be the one to move to take them inside, which she does with a moan that makes Beca’s breast slip from her lips but she recaptures it quickly.

Beca probably should have expected it given their position, but feeling Chloe’s hips starting to move makes Beca feel dizzy. Chloe’s riding Beca’s fingers and worshiping her breasts and Beca’s so turned on she doesn’t know how to ask for what she needs, but she doesn’t have to. Chloe stops holding up Beca’s breast, adjusting her own angle to be able to continue reaching it, and slips that hand between Beca’s legs again, not hesitating to push into Beca’s body.

“Fuck,” she exhales as she drops her head back to the pillow, unable to watch any longer.

She curls her fingers and feels Chloe do the same, the pace picking up again quickly.

“Beca,” Chloe whimpers, her forehead resting against Beca’s chest as they fuck each other, Beca’s hand in her hair to hold on.

Beca can only moan and writhe and try to keep her fingers inside Chloe who is starting to move so hard and fast against her that it’s making it difficult. They slip out a few times but when it happens, Chloe stops and waits for Beca to find her again before she’s riding her again.

Chloe’s hand isn’t very focused, either, but Beca doesn’t need it to be. It’s inside her and Beca can do the rest of the work as she works her hips against it, listening to Chloe moaning her name again and again like it’s a curse word until she feels Chloe quivering from within, and a rush of heat, and Chloe’s hand pushes hard against her so she can grind against it and then they’re coming together. Again.

Beca tries to listen to the way they sound together but it’s hard to think about anything but the pleasure rippling between her legs and the way it feels for Chloe’s cunt to clench around her fingers again and again.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe groans once they’re both still. She’s cautious and courteous about the way she detangles herself from Beca, who is so spent she feels like she could fall asleep in two seconds, until she’s sprawled on her back next to Beca.

“You okay?” Beca manages to ask because Chloe hasn’t stopped making sounds.

“I think I’m still coming,” Chloe says with a weak laugh followed by a quiet moan. “Oh, my God, Beca.” Another sigh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking great,” Beca says after heaving a sigh and letting her head loll to the left to look at her. “God, that was so good.”

She hadn’t really meant to say that out loud. There hasn’t been time to figure out what the afterglow mood was going to be, if it would be okay to acknowledge things a certain way.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Chloe says, followed by another laugh and a groan that has her bringing her hands up to cover her face.

Beca feels her entire body blush. “Seriously?”

Chloe turns her head and peeks at her from between her fingers. “You’ve had better?”

Beca feels herself smiling. “No,” she says. “But I thought you might have.”

Chloe’s hands fall away; she’s smiling, too, and she shakes her head. “Nothing like that.”

Beca knows she’s smiling _way_ too big but she can’t help it. “Cool.”

“Yeah,” Chloe laughs. “Cool. I can’t feel my legs.”

Beca blushes again but this time it’s accompanied by pride; she likes that she made Chloe feel that good. She lets her eyes roam over Chloe’s body, spent and on display next to her and she drinks it in until something in her periphery catches her eye. She has to tilt her chin to see, and then she laughs.

“Dude, my nipples are like, permanently hard now.” They’re both still standing at firm attention, much more than their normal state of arousal.

Every filter she’s ever put on herself over the years feels absent now and it’s freeing. She feels free.

Chloe nods. “It’s a good look on you.”

Chloe meets her eyes and they both fall quiet. Beca wonders if it’s healthy, or even humanly possible, to become so aroused so quickly so soon after such a hard release but Chloe’s looking at her like she feels the same way.

Chloe even starts to move but Beca puts up her hand to stop her. 

“Just...I need a moment.” She needs to finish gathering herself before Chloe destroys her again.

“But we don’t have to do it that way anymore,” Chloe says with a smile, her hand lacing with Beca’s to pull until Beca’s the one turning onto her side and moving until she’s sitting astride Chloe’s hips.

“No?” Beca asks, using her position to arch and stretch her back, something she notices Chloe watching appreciatively.

“This is much better,” Chloe replies, her hands moving lazily over Beca’s thighs and waist until they’re gently cupping her breasts. “But I do still want to watch you fuck yourself with that when you recharge it,” she adds with a nod of her head to the right where Beca’s dead vibrator lays somewhere all but forgotten.

It warms Beca and she smiles as she bends down, intending to kiss her, but she stops short. “Only if I get to fuck you with it, too.”

“Deal,” Chloe whispers against her lips.

* * *

The next morning, Beca decides to stop crossing dates off the calendar marking the days they’ve been home. She takes the calendar off the wall entirely and shoves it into a drawer.

She’d rather not be reminded of the passage time.

Not when Chloe’s in bed waiting for her to return with their traditional cups of coffee after staying up all night.

Beca’s never been more physically exhausted in her life.

She hopes the feeling never goes away.

_**To be continued...** _


	3. Just Plain Desperate.

Beca doesn’t know what day it is anymore.

And she really, really doesn’t care.

“Oh, my God,” she chokes out as her fingers curl over the side of the table she and Chloe (and Amy in the before-times) regularly dine at. It’s been shoved against the cabinetry to stop it from sliding forward every time Chloe thrusts into her. Her other hand is hooked onto the edge of the sink; one hand to stop her from being pulled back and the other to brace herself, all to maximize Chloe’s actions.

Chloe’s blunt fingernails dig into her hips while she drives the strap-on into Beca’s body with skill that Beca can’t help but think is a supernatural gift. Not that she is capable of much thought. “Do you like it?” Chloe asks, voice unfairly steady for how hard Beca knows she’s working.

She answers with a groan. Even if she could string together a coherent sentence, there are no words that can describe what she’s feeling as Chloe fucks her bent over the kitchen table.

When Chloe walked in from the daily mail check carrying a box and wearing a smile, Beca hadn’t thought anything of it. She’d watched with mild interest as Chloe opened it, singing to herself while doing so until she’d turned to face Beca holding up a small pair of black briefs with a ring positioned low on the front of them to ask Beca, “What do you think?”

“Dude, what is that?” she’d asked with a laugh, knowing full-well what it was.

“You said your favorite position was getting it from behind,” Chloe shrugged like she was reminding Beca she’d said strawberry was her favorite ice cream.

“So you bought a strap-on?” She didn’t know why she was being argumentative. She was already saving her work so she could turn off her laptop. She was already getting wet.

Chloe nodded with a smile and turned back to finish unpacking the box and Beca didn’t have to see to know it was the other important piece to Chloe’s intentions. She watched her open and unwrap things and throw away the packaging and toss the box by the door to be taken out for recycling.

When Chloe had turned around from washing the new dildo, Beca was already nude and standing in the middle of the room waiting for whatever it was Chloe wanted to do. She’d actually gasped in surprise, then grabbed Beca’s hand to pull her in and kiss her hard before pushing her toward the table and telling her to bend over.

“Don’t stop,” Beca manages to say between moans that are probably going to earn them yet another note taped to their front door about being mindful of their neighbors when everyone else has to be home all the time, too.

“I’m not,” Chloe says as her hips speed up to prove her point.

It makes Beca’s voice give out for a few seconds, nothing but silence escaping her as Chloe pounds into her. A hand runs up her back and she feels it tangle in long, loose ends of her hair, to pull.

To date, she hasn’t considered hair-pulling to be one of her  _ things. _ She knows it’s Chloe’s thing; Chloe loves when Beca pulls her hair. Beca’s never found much enjoyment in her own being pulled though. Not until today when Chloe’s grip is just firm enough to make her have to lift her head. It’s just enough to make Beca feel like she’s completely at Chloe’s mercy (not that she wasn’t already). It’s just enough to make Beca find her voice and moan her appreciation.

She wants to ask Chloe to rub her clit; it’s aching with need and she doesn’t know if she’ll even be able to come if it goes ignored.

She doesn’t totally care, though; if she never comes, that means Chloe will never stop fucking her this way and Beca can’t think of a better way to pass the time.

And they’ve passed  _ a lot _ of time since they gave in and stopped using each other to get off and instead started getting each other off. She’s not sure she’s had as much sex with all her past partners  _ combined _ as she and Chloe have had in the last three weeks. They’ve both been unapologetically insatiable, even joking that it shouldn’t be biologically possible to be having multiple orgasms every single day. They don’t even ask anymore; sometimes Beca is sitting in on the couch looking at her phone and Chloe will slip her hand down Beca’s pants, or shorts, or underwear, or just between her legs if she hadn’t bothered to put clothes on, and make her come in a quick few minutes. Sometimes Beca doesn’t even put her phone down; she knows Chloe gets off on trying to earn Beca’s attention. And Beca always returns the favor.

Beca wonders if, feasibly, they could do this forever. She’d be content to skip dinner, and breakfast, and fall asleep to slow, languid thrusts and be woken by Chloe picking up the pace again, to repeat it day after day.

It’s never felt like this before, not with anyone, and while she’d like to think it’s simply because Chloe is an amazing lover, she knows it’s more than that. It’s been more than that, at least for Beca, for a long time.

A pathetic, needy-sounding sob escapes her and she hears Chloe moan in response.

“Are you close?”

She’s so close it hurts, yet it feels impossibly out of reach. Chloe driving into her, again and again, is loud and wet. She shakes her head and feels how her hair pulls where it’s still in Chloe’s hand until that tension releases. Nails drag down her back to hold tightly to her hips again and, somehow, Chloe moves impossibly faster.

It makes her hands slip and flail to try to brace herself again and she has the distinct mental image of being helpless.

“Is it not good?” Chloe asks, concern in her voice that’s finally starting to show signs of physical exertion.

The absurdity of the question makes Beca want to cry. She shakes her head again and has to shove both her hands hard against the counter, channeling what little strength she has left to form words. “If I come, you’ll stop.” As if betraying her, she feels her climax bearing down her despite the way her clit is being neglected and she knows the moan that follows her words makes it more than obvious that she’s close.

“When has that ever stopped me?” Chloe replies; it sounds a bit like she’s trying not to laugh.

Beca doesn’t blame her; she’s dumb to have thought Chloe would ever stop unless Beca asked her to. 

“Then don’t stop,” Beca moans. “God, please don’t stop.”

“Never.”

Harder. Somehow, Chloe fucks her even harder and Beca has an unmistakable realization that she’s being ravaged. It builds and builds and there are no more words. Nothing but moans and wet sounds and the fast rhythmic thunking of the table against the cabinet and Chloe’s heavy breathing until it overcomes Beca.

It’s a tremor, just a quiver of pleasure in her belly that disappears as soon as she braces herself for it. She’s wrong to let down her guard in disappointment; she’s about to swear in desperate madness because, after all of this, her orgasm was over in little more than a blink of an eye.

What she didn’t expect was that that quiver was the earthquake before the tidal wave.

She comes so hard she’s not sure she won’t just crack in two. She can’t breathe. Or see. Or hear anything but her own voice and whatever sounds it’s making and Chloe’s unintelligible words of encouragement distorted in her ears. She comes so hard she can feel the way Chloe tries to pull back but can’t because Beca’s tensed so hard around the toy inside her. She comes so hard that it almost hurts, and that thought distracts her body long enough that it allows Chloe to move.

Beca thinks maybe she says something. Maybe a word. Maybe a “Fuck” or a “Shit” or an “Oh, God,” but she can’t be sure. She’s stopped trying to think or speak or consciously react and surrendered herself to whatever Chloe is going to make her body do.

What she does know is that Chloe keeps true to her word and doesn’t stop.

Beca’s orgasm hasn’t even ended yet and Chloe’s already fucking her again. It’s merciless and she just gives up and lets her head hang, not caring if she ends up with a friction burn on her forehead. She feels a hand on her stomach and her breasts until it’s following her right arm to thread their fingers together, Chloe’s breasts pressing against her back and teeth on her shoulder.

She thinks she hears something like, “You’re incredible,” before the teeth and lips and tongue return to her shoulder to move across her back until Chloe’s standing upright again. Her hands return to Beca’s hips and her pace is already speeding up until she finds the same tempo that had just driven Beca into an earth-shattering climax that she’s either still recovering from or still experiencing—she’s too far-gone to be able to know the difference.

What she does know is that it shouldn’t be humanly possible to come as hard as she just did and already be on the verge again in just minutes.

She’d ask Chloe what’s happening to her if she could.

The way Chloe’s managing to hit the exact right spot again and again makes it almost impossible to breathe and she manages to spare one thought as to how pathetic she probably looks as her legs start to tremble.

But then she doesn’t care anymore. The orgasm that overtakes her is literally nothing she’s ever experienced; she feels it in every inch of her body and she can hear Chloe moaning and saying things like, “Oh, my God, you’re so hot, come for me, baby.”

It’s hot and wet and she feels herself dripping on her inner thighs and the only reason she doesn’t collapse to the floor is because the table’s there to hold her up. She feels Chloe heavy against her again, breathing hard against her back where her mouth presses tired, lazy kisses across Beca’s skin.

Beca’s trying to catch her breath and it’s not easy with Chloe’s weight against her, pinning her against the table. She has a distinct thought, however, that she loves it. That she  _ wants _ to struggle to breathe because Chloe’s on top of her after making her come so hard she’s unsure if her soul has returned to her body.

She’s sure they could stay there all night if the terrifying sound of screeching, twisting metal didn’t slice through their exhausted silence accompanied by their trusty kitchen table giving out and starting to collapse.

It happens so fast Beca doesn’t even process it until her bare ass is sitting on the cold floor with Chloe doubled over in laughter next to her.

“What the fuck?” Beca says, breathing hard now that she can once again, as she stares at the sad excuse for a table, two of its legs bent and splayed to make the whole thing slant at a solid 45-degree angle.

“I can’t believe we broke the table,” Chloe says, still laughing. “I’m just glad it held out as long as it did.”

It makes Beca laugh, too, even though she still feels a bit delirious from her release(s). “Honestly, I think I’d have been fine just riding it to the floor if it gave out in the middle of that.”

That makes Chloe laugh even harder and she turns to look up at her, still bent over, hands on her knees and red hair, the ends damp with what Beca knows to be sweat (Hers? Beca’s? Both?), swinging. She’s still wearing the strap-on and Beca’s focus shifts back to exactly why the table is broken and exactly why she would have been more than happy to let Chloe fuck her right through the floor.

She’s on her knees and pulling the briefs off Chloe before Chloe even notices.

“Oh, what?” she says in surprise when she does notice and then she’s stepping out of the harness so Beca can toss it up and into the sink.

“Bed,” she says as she lets Chloe pull her to her feet. Her legs don’t want to work so she’s grateful they only have a few steps to go to cross the room.

“You don’t have to,” Chloe says with a soft smile even as Beca turns them and pulls Chloe in to kiss her, walking backward until she’s bringing Chloe down on top of her.

Beca just shakes her head and drags her nails down Chloe’s back until they reach her ass, which she grabs and uses to push her north. “I know. But I want to.”

Chloe shifts with the pressure of Beca’s hands but not how Beca wants her to. She wants Chloe higher; she wants her face between Chloe’s thighs. Chloe seems content to stay put, though, as she kisses Beca with more and more enthusiasm instead of moving up like Beca’s trying to direct.

“Up,” she finally mumbles through a kiss. They’ve never done it this way before, another first in a laundry list of so many firsts they’ve shared over the last many weeks. She doesn’t quite know how to ask directly; Chloe’s far more comfortable and bold when initiating new things, but as soon as the cards are on the table, Beca’s quick to agree. (Tonight’s new strap-on adventure, for example.)

Chloe’s tongue slips further into her mouth for several seconds before she pulls back. “What do you mean, ‘up’?” she asks with a hint of a smile.

“I mean,” Beca has to wrench one of her hands out from where they’re trapped between their bodies because her hands had been on Chloe’s breasts when they tumbled into bed. She uses it to pat the pillow beneath her head. “Up.”

Chloe seems to freeze above her, even her quick breathing stopping as she stares down at Beca. She’s beginning to think she did something wrong because the pause feels too long for what she thought wouldn’t be a difficult thing to agree to when Chloe drops down and kisses her again. It’s hard and steals Beca’s breath and as soon as it breaks, Chloe’s moving, crawling higher until Beca’s tossing aside the pillow to make room for Chloe’s knees.

“I’ve thought about this so much,” Chloe says as her fingers thread through what little of Beca’s hair she can grab.

Beca’s hands find and squeeze Chloe’s ass, scooting herself a little higher on the bed to make sure when she pulls Chloe down, she can easily catch Chloe’s clit between her lips.

It’s not the first time she’s had her mouth on Chloe; that had happened two weeks ago in the middle of the night in a burst of confidence and arousal. She’d rolled over and kissed Chloe awake and whispered, “I want to taste you,” and Chloe had nodded and parted her legs.

So she knows what to expect now, how Chloe will taste and how she’ll feel against her tongue but she’s still not ready for it. She’s not sure if she could ever be ready for what it’s like for Chloe to press herself against Beca’s mouth and moan and whisper things about needing and wanting Beca.

“That feels so good,” Chloe says through a breathy moan as soon as Beca’s tongue touches her.

Beca looks up at her and it’s truly a sight to see Chloe’s eyes fixed on her, the way her face is flushed, all messy hair and dark lips and heavy eyes. All that once Beca’s eyes get past the soft skin of her stomach and the curves of her breasts and the way her nipples are pebbled and hard. That all of it is because of Beca. For Beca. Being shared with Beca.

Her mind skips back ten minutes to how Chloe had just made her come—twice—harder than she ever had before and she moans, the memory driving heat right to her core. She channels it into what she’s doing, working her tongue and lips over Chloe.

Chloe’s moans are sinful as she lets go of Beca’s hair so both hands can hold on to the back of the couch. Her hips are starting to move and it makes Beca tuck a hand between Chloe’s legs to slip her fingers into her to give her something solid to ride.

“Oh, God, yeah,” Chloe says through a moan and her hips work faster.

Beca knows it’s not going to take her long; she knows all of Chloe’s tells by now. She can already feel how close she is by the way she squeezes Beca’s fingers and how her voice becomes breathy and ethereal. She closes her lips against her clit and sucks, fingers curling in time with Chloe’s pace.

She watches Chloe’s head tip back and sees the tension in her arms and feels it in her legs as she works to keep herself upright.

There’s a sudden stomping on the ceiling above them and for half a second they both freeze. Beca knows their neighbors hate them. They’ll probably have to move when this is all over.

“No, I don’t care. Don’t stop,” Chloe decides, hips immediately working even faster. 

It feels like Chloe’s trying to defy their protest the way she gets even louder so Beca helps her, working her tongue and lips over her and her fingers inside her as thoroughly as she can while Chloe rolls and grinds her hips.

She’s being obnoxiously loud on purpose and Beca kind of loves it. She loves that Chloe wants people to know that Beca is making her feel good. She loves that she  _ is _ making her feel good. She loves that her own moans sound so good with Chloe’s when Chloe reaches behind herself to touch Beca. She loves that Chloe always wants to make Beca feel good, even when she’s on the verge of her own orgasm.

Beca would say something if she could, a curse word or something about how good it feels or how good Chloe tastes but all of that would require her to stop, even for a second, and Chloe’s too close for that. Instead, she spreads her legs and rocks her hips up into Chloe’s touch to let her know how appreciative she is before she reaches down with the hand not between Chloe’s legs to push Chloe’s hand away. She knows it’s not a good angle for her. Chloe’s hand doesn’t leave, though. It grabs Beca’s and guides it to replace Chloe’s until Beca’s fucking both of them.

She watches Chloe lean forward again and marvels at the view and the taste as she watches Chloe start to fall apart.

It’s loud and she says Beca’s name. She calls her ‘baby.’ She begs Beca to come with her, and she does, which only makes Chloe moan even more loudly.

Someone’s probably going to knock on their door soon.

Beca really doesn’t give a fuck. Not when Chloe’s coming on her tongue and moaning her name and when she’s leaving fingernail imprints on Chloe’s ass.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe says weakly when it’s over. She’s still straddling Beca’s face but scoots back the tiniest bit to give Beca space.

Not that she cares or wants it. She’s still teasing her with her tongue, just enough to make her shiver and sigh and send tired, happy-looking smiles her way.

“You look so good like this,” Chloe says, fingers tracing Beca’s forehead and nose.

“So do you,” she answers, lifting her head enough to close her lips around her clit again, gently because she knows how sensitive she is.

Chloe whimpers and Beca wonders if they’re going to go again; it’s up to Chloe now. Beca’s ready for it even if she is exhausted. She’s not sure there will ever be a day or time when she isn’t ready for it. And she’s not sure how she feels about that...if it’s pathetic or not. She’s learned enough about herself through this new dynamic with Chloe that she’ll pretty much do anything Chloe wants her to do, and with very little convincing.

But, Chloe sighs and tilts her hips back to pull herself away and then she’s backing up until she’s stretched out on top of Beca to be able to bring their lips together in a slow, languid kiss that manages to calm Beca down as much as it keeps her turned on. She lets her hands idly roam over Chloe’s back; it’s warm and slick from her exertion and Beca feels the tiniest bit guilty of how unbalanced their physical contributions were to the afternoon’s events. 

That is, until she remembers that Chloe bought that toy for the sole reason of knowing what Beca liked because she wanted to use it on Beca and she doesn’t feel quite so guilty.

“That was all…. _ so _ fucking hot, Bec,” she says before kissing Beca again. 

Beca had been incorrect; she knows they aren’t finished yet. Chloe just needed a break for a few minutes.

“Can I fuck you like that again?”

She knows they aren’t finished yet because Chloe only talks that way when she’s turned on.

Beca just nods. “Any time you want.”

Her answer makes Chloe smile and groan and kiss her hard and roll her hips into Beca and...yeah. Someone is definitely going to be pounding on their door before the night is over.

* * *

“What’s up, my bitches!”

Beca groans at the sound of Amy’s voice cutting through her quiet morning. She’s been half-asleep tangled up with Chloe since Amy texted them both late last night to let them know she was on her way home. Neither of them had wanted to sleep. Sleeping meant time would pass quickly. Sleeping meant less time to talk and kiss and touch. They’d been up all night and if Amy hadn’t texted again to say she was in a cab on her way, they’d still be naked.

It’s nearly been two months and the stay at home order has been lifted. She was excited, of course. They both were. It meant they’d be back at work soon, back to some version of normal.

It also meant that Amy would be back and their version of Playing House would come to an end. Back to being friends. Back to being roommates.

Beca feels Chloe’s arms tighten around her and it feels bittersweet; the whole night had. It felt like something was ending. Everything felt like it was going to be The Last Time. The last time that Chloe would kiss Beca’s thigh, that Beca would touch Chloe’s breast, that their tongues and lips would meet.

She’d almost cried more than once. It felt a lot like breaking up. With someone she wasn’t even dating.

It had been as beautiful as it had just plain sucked.

“Hey, Amy, welcome home,” Chloe says as she pulls away from Beca to get out of bed and hug her.

Beca stares at the ceiling for a few seconds to make sure her face doesn’t look sad or pathetic before she sits up and plasters on a smile. “Hey, Ames.”

When their hug ends, Beca watches Amy look between her and Chloe, and then again. And a third time before she’s looking around the room and then walking around the room like she’s some kind of detective. 

She points at the flatscreen they had finally managed to get mounted on a wall. “We have a TV?”

“You can only watch so much Netflix on a 16” screen,” Chloe answers.

“And we got a new table?” She knocks her knuckles a few times on the wooden table that is a nice upgrade from what they’d had. It has managed to withstand what the other could not.

Beca hopes she doesn’t start blushing, and Chloe’s side glance her way isn’t helpful.

“Yeah, you know, I moved it so I could mop the floor and a screw came loose on one of the legs and it was stripped when I tried to fix it,” Chloe explains easily. “And we got that one off the street, anyway. We had so much time, we decided to upgrade the place a little.”

“Upgrade, right,” Amy says with a laugh as she tosses her bag onto her bed. “As long as you didn’t shag on my bed.”

“We didn’t,” they both answer, perhaps a little too in-synch.

Because they had. They totally had. Not on purpose, it had just been where they ended up. And they laundered everything the very same day. It was fine.

The way Amy turns around is almost comical in its slowness and Beca already knows they’re busted. She doesn’t know how she does it, but Amy has always been neck-and-neck with Stacie in being able to figure out when anyone has had a hook-up.

Beca feels herself shrinking in her spot in bed until she’s compelled to pull the blanket up over her knees to her chin. Her eyes flit between Amy and Chloe because Amy’s staring her down like the easy target she is until — 

“I knew it!” Amy shrieks, pointing accusingly. “I knew you twig bitches wouldn’t last in here without me before you were doing the horizontal tango. How long did you wait? A day? Two?”

“Amy!” Beca groans, pulling the blanket all the way over her head and falling backward to lay back down.

“It’s...complicated,” she hears Chloe say and feels the bed move and knows Chloe just sat down at the end of it.

“Does that mean you two are officially on the shaggin’ wagon? And we can finally stop this game where we all pretend you’re not in love with each other?”

Beca feels her throat close up at those words. They hadn’t discussed that. Have they said, “I love you”? Yes. Was Beca 100% certain Chloe meant it in a romantic, deep way and not a platonic friend way? No. They somehow made it through two months of an intensely sexual affair and had no clear resolution.

“Amy,” Chloe chastises. Her voice is softer when she adds, “Don’t. Please?”

“Okay, okay,” Amy says defensively but Beca knows that means she’s going to let it go. “Anyway, thanks for the TV; can’t wait to watch the home movies my boy toy and I made on a proper screen.”

“Over my dead body,” Beca says, still hiding under the blankets. She feels a hand on her foot, though, and nows it’s Chloe’s. It kind of pats it, and squeeze it, and wiggles it, and she knows there is meaning with it.

_ “I’m here. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” _

**_To be continued..._ **


	4. Desperate Remedies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's been fun! Thanks for both your patience in this final update and for reading!

* * *

Beca wasn’t sure how Chloe’s and her newfound dynamic would change once Fat Amy returned to their lives.

They’d had two months of isolation together and, quite frankly, Beca had all but forgotten there was an entire world filled with other people beyond their four walls. And she really wasn’t a fan of any of them.

She was, however, a big fan of the person whose fingertips were wandering inconspicuously along her left thigh. 

They’re meant to be working together to clean the kitchen after the dinner the three had made but Amy had excused herself, explaining that she needed to get ready for her Hot Date with someone, conveniently leaving the mess to Chloe and Beca.

Beca had decided to take on the dishes while Chloe finished clearing the table and stove but following Chloe’s most recent trip to the sink where Beca stood, she’d dropped in the dishes instead of walking away, had stepped behind Beca.

It had made every hair on the back of her neck stand up when she sensed Chloe’s proximity and Chloe had giggled in her ear at Beca’s shiver the second her fingertips grazed the skin just below the hem of her dress.

“What are you doing?” she says under her breath, hand tightening so much on the plate she’s washing that it slips out and back into the water with a splash.

“Touching you,” Chloe answers breezily, as though she’s flipping through a magazine or shopping for shoes online. As if to reinforce her answer, her fingertips travel higher until they’re lifting Beca’s dress to glide over her hip and back down to where they tease a few inches above her knee. “Is that okay?”

“Amy’s literally right there,” she whispers, clanging a few dishes in the sink to help cover her words.

Chloe’s response is just a hum followed by her fingers meandering their way higher once again. They don’t seem to be making their destination clear, though Beca’s body has a pretty good idea regardless. She can feel the way it’s responding to Chloe and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly she’s aroused.

Amy’s loud voice cuts through her thoughts, however. “Red or black?”

She feels Chloe move away from her as though she turned around. It’s a few seconds of reprieve from the oppressive arousal that is invading her mind and body.

“Ooh, go with the black,” Chloe replies.

“Red it is,” Amy says confidently. The sound of hangers screeching across the clothing rack that serves to weakly divide Amy’s sleeping area from Chloe and Beca’s follows, as does Chloe’s presence behind Beca.

“What if I took you right now?” The words are whispered hotly in Beca’s ear and they, along with Chloe’s fingers quickly ascending her inner thigh, make her drop the same plate she’d dropped a minute earlier. “Think I can make you come before she finishes changing?”

Beca’s vision blurs. She has little doubt Chloe could make good on her hypotheticals. Maybe it’s because Amy’s return to their lives was sudden and unexpected, leaving the current evolution of their relationship without a label. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get one last grand hurrah before having a third party present almost all hours of the day. But it’s been three days since they regained their roommate and three days without what had become Beca’s new normal: frequent and often intense physical affection and attention from Chloe.

Even under the cover of darkness, in bed together at night, they seemed to silently and mutually agree to keep their distance from one another. They hadn’t so much as kissed since the day Amy returned.

To say she was horny was an understatement.

And now Chloe’s teasing her, touching her in not-quite-there places that she hasn’t touched her in what feels like an eternity with the promise for more with Amy’s departure from the apartment imminent. The first time they’ll be alone in 72 hours.

“You’re not going to answer me?” Chloe doesn’t whisper it, innocuous a question as it is out-of-context, and it, along with her finger brushing over the thin material of Beca’s underwear between her legs shakes Beca out of her reverie to send her hips rocking forward with a gasp and the word, “Shit.”

“Did you cut yourself on my Ginsu, Shawshank?”

No, Beca did not cut herself on Amy’s home shopping network-purchased knife. She might as well have, though, for as hard as her heart is beating. “Nope!” she grinds out, hoping she can deter Amy from coming to investigate. “Thought I did but I’m not bleeding.”

“Those knives can cut through a steel can and still slice tomatoes paper-thin; don’t dull them up.”

“Yep, got it!” she spits and sends a side-eye in Chloe’s direction at the satisfied chuckle next to her ear. “She’s going to catch us if you don’t stop,” she says, lowering her voice.

“Maybe if you could control yourself.” There’s a smirk in Chloe’s tone and Beca tries to brace herself for it because she knows, she _knows_ Chloe’s going to touch her again and just when she thinks it’s coming, the warmth of Chloe’s proximity disappears, accompanied by the scrape of hangers again.

“Ooh, you look great!” Chloe says cheerfully. “Doesn’t she, Bec?”

Beca has to hang her head and gather her thoughts before slapping on a smile to turn and look. “Yep! Go get ‘em, tiger,” she says a bit disdainfully. It’s not fair how turned on she is and it’s not fair that Amy’s taking approximately three millennia to leave for her date which, if history remains true, will likely keep her out all night.

“I don’t want to come home to any broken furniture,” Amy says casually as she drops an alarming collection of items into an oversized purse, of which Beca doesn’t want to think about when she’s potentially seconds away from desperately needed release. “And I have a blacklight. I _will_ be inspecting all communal surfaces when I return.”

“Ew,” Beca grimaces as she turns back to stare idly at the sink full of water and dishes. She should just pull the plug and give up on the task and she dries her hands on the dishtowel in resignation. She wonders if Amy’s bluffing or if she does have a blacklight and has used it and what it’s already revealed.

“You got it,” Chloe chirps. It’s not a denial that such an inspection won’t be necessary and that floors Beca even further. 

To Amy’s credit, despite her tendencies to tease her friends to the point of harassment, she hasn’t said much about Chloe and Beca since her first day back. She’d called them out but had also shut up about it which Beca was very grateful for. Considering the myriad possibilities, the threat of a blacklight wasn’t much. She knew they’d hooked up. At least she wasn’t adding undue stress about defining their relationship.

Beca was putting enough pressure on herself for that, trying to figure out what to do and what to say.

But for now, she was listening to Amy and Chloe’s idle conversation and the sounds of Amy putting on her shoes and picking up her keys, all the while feeling Chloe’s presence hovering behind her. Close enough that their elbows touch.

“Don’t wait up!” is the last thing she hears Amy say before the door closes behind her.

The sound of it latching makes Beca slump against the counter. “I thought she’d never leave.”

“Stop talking,” Chloe says and her voice is so blunt it makes Beca stand up straight again, only to be pinned against the sharp edge of the counter by Chloe’s body pressing into her as their lips reconnect for the first time in days.

Beca just nods at the command and wraps her arms around Chloe’s neck to accept the hard, demanding kiss.

“Fuck, I want you so much,” Chloe breathes as her lips slide to Beca’s neck. Her hands are already on Beca’s thighs and Beca steps wider to accommodate her. She kind of wishes they would at least relocate to their bed, first, but she has no real complaints. Not when Chloe’s fingers are already between her legs, rubbing against the soaked fabric of her underwear.

Beca moans in response and pushes her hips forward. She wants more: hard, fast, wet, deep. All of it. It’s been too long. She wants Chloe, too.

The sudden onslaught of heat is, however, interrupted by the sound of the door banging open again.

“Forgot my manacles. Pretend I’m not here.”

Chloe’s mouth disappears from Beca’s skin, both of them jumping in surprise at Amy’s unexpected, loud return.

“Did she say manacles?” Beca says, voice hushed as she breathes hard, heart racing.

Despite her abruptly pulling her mouth away from Beca’s neck, Chloe’s still just as close as she had been, and her fingers are still pressing against Beca. They’re even moving, if only slightly. “Not going to think about that right now.”

“Oh, my God, stop,” Beca says when she realizes it, too startled by the interruption to notice it sooner. Her hand seizes Chloe’s forearm but she can’t quite bring herself to actually push her away, not when Chloe’s eyes are so dark and locked onto her own.

Beca can see Amy in her periphery, mostly obscured by the clothing rack as she moves around her space rifling through drawers.

Something about that, about Amy acknowledging that she was interrupting something while pointedly ignoring it while she busies herself looking for her manacles (?), scratches at a part of Beca she hadn’t really known existed, and suddenly she’s shaking her head.

“No, don’t stop,” she quietly amends, pushing Chloe’s hand harder against herself.

She watches the effect of her permission slip into Chloe’s features: a pink blush in her cheeks, eyes wide with surprise, her lower lip snagged between her teeth as her fingers keep working against Beca. 

Beca can see the challenge in her eyes, can sense that Chloe’s remembering her daring questions from a few minutes ago about how quickly she could get Beca off. But Beca shakes her head; she doesn’t want that. Amy’s _right there_ even if she is distracted and Beca really doesn’t want to be mid-orgasm when she finds what she needs and waltzes through the kitchen where Chloe is actively fucking her.

Chloe seems to understand because she does ease up the slightest bit when Beca releases her death-grip on her arm in favor of gripping the counter. She can still remember the last time she was gripping this counter; she’s been bent over their now-disposed-of kitchen table while Chloe railed her to within an inch of her sanity.

The memory zips right to her core and she can actually feel herself get wetter because of it. She knows Chloe feels it, too, because she moans, so, so quietly that it doesn’t even really leave her throat, and runs her fingers agonizingly slowly further, even teasing Beca’s entrance through her still-present underwear.

She has to close her eyes and try to focus on keeping it together. She can’t moan or work herself against Chloe’s hand or even kiss her; all of that would be too obvious. She focuses on her breathing and the way Chloe’s own warm breath drifts over her lips, a constant reminder of her closeness as if the fingers slowly driving Beca insane weren’t enough. The sound of heavy, thick metal suddenly rings out and her eyes snap open to meet Chloe’s equally surprised and somewhat amused gaze.

“Found ‘em!” Amy announces, and the clanging of metal increases as, Beca assumes based on what she can see without looking away from Chloe, she adds large metal restraints to her bag of tricks. “I’ll be outta here in a jiffy. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe says lightly, like she’s not actively slipping her fingers under the edge of Beca’s underwear so her fingertips can massage—so, so slowly—Beca’s clit directly.

It makes a whimper escape Beca’s clenched jaw and she turns her head to appear very interested in the yellowed laminated paper glued to the side of the ceiling cabinet containing instructions on using the fire extinguisher that supposedly came with their apartment (it did not). She hears Chloe chuckle and sees Amy emerge from her area, oversized bag clanging as it swings over her shoulder. She knows Chloe’s body is obscuring what she’s doing, but that doesn’t stop the massive blush she feels hit her cheeks.

“Okay, I’m out of here once again,” Amy says, opening the door only to stop and keep talking. “I promise to knock if I need to come back for anything. I know you two have been keeping your knees closed since I got home and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that and I realize you are probably really looking forward to my being gone tonight. But I’ll have to come back if I decide I need my strawberry-flavored—” 

“Amy, _leave!”_ Beca says, a little more forcefully than she intended it to be, but Chloe had chosen that exact moment to slip the tip of her finger inside Beca, even as she’s turning to smile at their departing roommate.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m sure Chloe could help you out of them if you needed it though,” she adds, very conspicuously under her breath. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“Have a good night!” Chloe chirps. 

Together, they watch the door close, Chloe already pushing the length of her middle finger into Beca while keys and the deadbolt jangle and clunk as Amy locks it. If she returns, at least they’ll have a few extra seconds’ warning.

“Oh, my God,” Beca says, and she means to groan it but it comes out more like a desperate whine, but she doesn’t care. Chloe’s lips are waiting for her when she turns back from staring at the cabinet.

“That was so hot,” Chloe says before her tongue is filling Beca’s mouth, doing dirty things that rival what she’s doing between Beca’s legs.

Beca hums in agreement and rocks her hips forward when the heel of Chloe’s hand grinds into her clit. “You’re really gonna make me stand up for this?” she pants when Chloe’s lips travel to her neck once again.

“Just the first one,” she answers simply as a second finger slides in next to the first to make Beca lift herself up on her tiptoes for a few seconds before she’s pushing herself down onto them to try to take them deeper. 

“First one?” She needs more. No, she doesn’t _need_ more; she knows she’s going to come, and quickly. But she _wants_ more. She wants Chloe all night. She wants to piss off their neighbors again by making Chloe scream her name. The ferocity with which she simply wants _Chloe_ in all senses of the term is an almost startling thought to have in the middle of getting fucked in the kitchen and it takes everything she has to not say something dumb.

Instead, she moans, “Faster,” and shifts her weight to her one foot so she can wrap her leg around Chloe’s waist, but before she can, Chloe’s twisting away from her. Her free hand grabs the nearest chair to spin and drag it over and for a second, Beca thinks she’s going to get to sit down but Chloe just pushes it against the counter next to Beca.

“Here,” she says, guiding Beca’s foot to rest on the seat of the chair instead of having to balance on one foot. It also parts her legs spectacularly wide.

“Oh, fuck,” Beca manages to laugh through a moan.

“Good?” Chloe asks, but it’s rhetorical. She’s no longer kissing Beca; instead, she’s watching. Watching her face, looking down—and lifting Beca’s skirt out of the way—and watching her hand as her fingers slide and curl their way in and out of Beca again and again.

But Beca nods anyway. It’s good. It’s so, so fucking good and watching Chloe watching how she’s fucking Beca has her—

“Shit, I’m so close,” she gasps, the first pings of her orgasm already making her hips twitch as her arms loop around Chloe’s neck again to try to keep from sinking to the floor.

The words make Chloe’s eyes snap to her face, dark eyes begging before she even says, “God, yes, come for me, Bec.”

Chloe doesn’t bother kissing her to shut her up. Chloe wants to hear her so she lets her hear, moaning and swearing as she comes with Chloe’s fingers buried as deeply as they possibly can be.

She does kiss her once it’s passed and Beca’s trying to catch her breath, whining when Chloe withdraws from her because she’s not nearly ready to be finished yet. But the kiss is satisfactory enough for now because they haven’t kissed in three days and she’s pretty sure she could kiss Chloe forever and still want to kiss her again.

With Chloe’s hand no longer between them, she fits between Beca’s parted legs and Beca’s immediately grateful when Chloe’s hips, and the rough denim covering them, start to rock slowly against her. She has to hike her skirt up and out of the way, and she hates that she’s still wearing underwear, but they’re so wet they slide deliciously against her with every roll of Chloe’s hips.

She’s the one to break the kiss after a few too many just-right connections. “You said just the first one.” Maybe she should feel pathetic for how needy she is, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

“Okay, okay,” Chloe says with a playful roll of her eyes as she takes a step back and aside and gestures to let Beca pass. “After you.”

Beca rolls her eyes in return and hurries across the room on somewhat unsteady legs until she’s standing at the foot of their bed. She’s suddenly filled with uncertainty, however. Should she crawl into bed and let Chloe undress her? Should she wait and see what Chloe has in mind next?

  
When Chloe isn’t immediately with her, she turns around to find out why, only to see Chloe just standing where she’s been the entire time, just looking at Beca as if she’s waiting for something.

There’s a shred of being given control that comes with Chloe hanging back and it emboldens her to bring her hands to the first button on her dress, the one that sits nestled at the top of her cleavage, to unbutton it.

The action gets Chloe’s attention and her demeanor shifts from waiting for something to actively watching, eyes furtively bouncing from Beca’s fingers as they undo button after button. It’s not really necessary to be able to remove her dress; she could simply pull it up and over her head at any time. But holding Chloe’s rapt attention and seeing the excitement and desire that builds with each small button slipping out of its hole is intoxicating.

She knows her bra is visible in the small gap that lengthens with each button. It has Chloe’s attention, eyes no longer quite reaching Beca’s, fixating on the skin she’s revealing and tracking her hands’ path until she’s undoing the final button at her waist. All that’s left to do is let it slip off her shoulders and fall.

“Take it off,” Chloe finally says after Beca makes her wait too long.

All it takes is a shrug of her shoulders and a tug on the hem to let the patterned dress slink off her body to pool on the floor at her feet.

She’d expected the moment, one that has felt somewhat suspended in dreamy time, to extend further, for Chloe to stare and drink in her form the way Beca would do if their positions were reversed, to ask Beca to continue undressing for Chloe’s enjoyment.

  
Instead, Chloe advances so quickly she hasn’t quite finished taking the breath she knows she’ll need when Chloe’s lips are claiming hers again. Warm, strong hands are everywhere and she feels her bra loosen and get stripped away, followed by her breasts being claimed and held and squeezed in such a desperate, demanding way she realizes she hasn’t given much thought that Chloe is probably in a similar state as herself with their sudden hiatus.

“Lay down,” Chloe says with a sudden breaking of their kiss. Except she doesn’t stand back and let Beca do it herself. Her hands twist Beca by the hips to face the bed before she’s half-falling, half-crawling onto it. “Stay like that.”

The request instantly makes the back of her neck hot as she relaxes into the bed on her stomach, though nothing about her is at ease. She can hear Chloe undressing behind her, the tell-tale sounds of fabric shifting and the metal teeth of the zipper of her jeans before the soft _tink_ of their button hitting the floor tells her Chloe’s naked. Or mostly naked. She wants to twist her neck and look but it’s more fun to not know.

She’s startled and relieved when Chloe’s hands finally land on her calves, especially when they travel higher so quickly until she can feel Chloe climbing onto the bed behind her. Hands travel higher still until they’re palming her ass and she can feel hard nipples grazing the backs of her knees before teeth lightly but pointedly sink into the soft flesh along the edge of her underwear.

“Shit,” she can’t help but gasp, her back bowing from the way her body is responding to Chloe’s almost demanding touch. Fingers curl under the waistband of her underwear and pull. They’re so ruined that she hopes Chloe notices and is proud of her work as they’re peeled down her legs and tossed aside.

“You’re so hot,” Chloe breathes, hot against her back before wet kisses start dropping in random places. Her right shoulder. The back of her neck. Along her ribs on her left side. Chloe’s hands are still seemingly everywhere, fingernails dragging lightly down her back only to warmly slide up her sides, working their way under Beca until her breasts are in her hands and Chloe’s hips grind forward against her ass.

The feeling makes her jaw drop and a shudder runs down her back as her own hips try to press up and back, wanting contact that is only being hinted at as Chloe grinds into her, mouthing at her back and neck and making every part of her ache with need.

She’s about to beg for more when she feels Chloe lift away from her, hands skirting down her ribs to start tugging on her hips until she’s pushing herself up and onto her elbows and knees. The position makes her head spin and she presses her forehead into the mattress to brace herself. She bites her lip at the memory that springs up of all the times she was “forced” to watch Chloe do yoga on the floor, and that she’s basically in frog pose. She’d laughed at its name at the time but that was only to mask all the thoughts she’d had about how it was a wildly sexual position.

And now here she is.

“Just like that,” Chloe praises and Beca feels a hand run up her back until it’s scratching at the nape of her neck and twisting into her hair. The other moves around to Beca’s stomach and then down until her fingers are slipping through Beca’s wetness again.

The sudden contact makes Beca moan and rock backward, instantly in search of more. Always more. “Fuck.”

“I can’t believe how wet you are.” Fingers sink into Beca as though to make her point and the fullness she feels with it makes her walk her knees wider.

She knows it’s three inside her, not two, and she clenches around them, moaning as she tries to pull Chloe deeper. “Fuck, Chlo. Please.”

There’s a gentle tug on her hair that feels less than accidental. It felt a lot like a reminder of who’s in charge at the moment but despite that, her hair is released and nails drag down her spine again. Fingers slip out of her, then, and she whines in irritation only to feel them slip in again, this time from another angle. This time from behind, while the three that just withdrew from her start, with no teasing or hesitation, rubbing her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she stutters, biting her lip because she doesn’t want to get too loud too soon. She’s bent over on the bed, Chloe behind her—kneeling between her parted legs, she assumes—using _both_ of her hands to fuck Beca. “Oh, God don’t stop.”

Chloe doesn’t answer her. She just moves more quickly. Faster circles onto her clit. Faster fingers pumping into her cunt. Except as soon as Beca starts to get close, as soon as her moan is too obviously on-edge, Chloe eases off Beca’s clit and it drops her right back down to where she started. Maybe a degree or two higher. All but back at the beginning.

It’s maddening.

And it’s thrilling.

Chloe’s not exactly teasing her, though she is pointedly _denying_ her an inevitable release.

“So good,” she says after a groan of agony when her orgasm gets yanked away from her again, only for it to start rebuilding immediately. She’s almost nervous about how hard she’s going to come when Chloe finally lets her.

She feels Chloe moving behind her, though her pace and rhythm fucking Beca barely falters. There’s a shifting of the bed, a squeaking of a different spring that isn’t one of the ones already whining and from their motion. She can see Chloe behind her at the very edge of her vision when she opens her eyes and turns to let her cheek rest against the bed instead of her forehead. She’s not directly behind Beca anymore and she’s still trying to figure out what’s happening when she feels the hot slickness that she knows is Chloe settling over her left calf.

Chloe moans with the contact, as does Beca who flexes her leg on instinct to harden the muscle just as Chloe drags herself against it.

Neither says anything but it’s a mutual acknowledgment. Chloe is so turned on she needs relief herself but her hands are both too busy with Beca to touch herself. Beca’s happy to provide what she can in her position.

She can only watch for a few seconds before it threatens to give her a headache from straining, the blurry silhouette of Chloe astride her leg, rutting herself against it wantonly.

“Fuck, Beca,” she finally moans after what feels like several minutes of Chloe not easing up. It makes Beca shiver and tense up in anticipation that Chloe might come soon. That Chloe might let _her_ come soon.

The spot Chloe’s reaching in her right now, though, might not give Chloe any say in the matter. It’s making Beca’s fingers twist into the bedding to ground herself because she feels like she might ascend any second.

Only Chloe fucking _stops_ and the groan that gets ripped from Beca’s throat is ripe with frustration, enough that she hears Chloe laugh. “What’s wrong?” Chloe asks entirely too cheerfully for what’s happening. But Chloe doesn’t just stop, she actually pulls out of Beca. She almost deflates in agony but Chloe’s hands catch her hips before she can and she can tell she’s moving again.

“Fuck off,” Beca replies though it’s all sexual frustration and no ire. She’s already resigned herself to being at Chloe’s mercy for whatever she feels like doing to her tonight. She knows it will be worth it in the end if she can find the patience.

She can’t see Chloe anymore if she opens her eyes and she doesn’t bother trying to lift her head. She likes not knowing what’s going to happen next. She can tell Chloe’s moving away from her; she’s not straddling her leg anymore. The hands on her hips move to her ass to grip it, almost tugging on it possessively and Beca chokes on air when Chloe’s tongue is suddenly pressing into her.

“What...fuck…” she groans, pushing herself up onto her elbows again so she can let her head hang. It’s too hard to breathe otherwise. Not when Chloe’s tongue is inside her. Not when it audibly slides out to instead lick at her swollen clit.

There’s movement again and this time she feels Chloe’s body settling between her legs and she cranes her neck down enough to look down her own body to see Chloe on her back, already pulling Beca down toward her face. She manages to wonder if Chloe knows Beca’s looking because her tongue is literally out and waiting like she wants Beca to see and both of them moan when Beca lets her knees slide wider apart until she’s on Chloe’s tongue.

She should have known Chloe would be just as merciless with her mouth as she’d been with her hands. There are only a few seconds of gentle grazing before Chloe has her clit between her lips to suck on it.

All Beca can really do is hold on. Chloe’s grip is so tight around her thighs she can barely move. Her hips want to rock, want to ride Chloe’s face, but she can’t.

At least Chloe doesn’t let up when Beca lets a moan slip that is a dead giveaway that she’s close.

“Please,” she says between gasping breaths and moans. “Fuck, please…”

Chloe’s answering hum lilts positively and she sucks harder. Like she’s giving Beca permission. Permission she hadn’t consciously been waiting for but somehow needed because as soon as it registers as permission, the orgasm that’s been denied at least half a dozen times in the past however many minutes crashes through her with frightening intensity. She can’t breathe but somehow can’t stop moaning. She can’t hold herself up but Chloe’s hands keep her from potentially suffocating her...roommate. She can’t feel her own fingers but she can feel the way her body is pulsing around the fingers that she doesn’t remember slipping into her with the new position.

A particularly strong aftershock lurches her forward and out of Chloe’s grasp, leaving her to gasp to catch her breath and try to recover, even as she feels Chloe’s lips on the curves of her ass and up her spine and across her shoulders until she sees through blurry vision as Chloe stretches out on her back alongside her, smiling at Beca until Chloe’s eyes close with a moan. Beca doesn’t have to look down to know Chloe’s touching herself; she’s watched her do it enough times that she knows exactly what it looks and sounds like.

But she does anyway because she’ll never get tired of watching Chloe fuck herself until she’s coming and moaning Beca’s name. She wants to help. She wants to turn onto her side and push Chloe’s hand away and take over.

Her heart is still pounding, though, and all she can manage is to reach a tired hand over to rest it on Chloe’s just to feel. She’s touching herself hard and fast and it doesn’t help Beca’s pulse to slow. The connection makes Chloe moan her name and it draws Beca’s eyes back up to her face. Chloe’s gaze is on her, though it frequently drifts as her eyelashes flutter the closer she gets.

Chloe’s climax hits her hard, thighs closing to trap her and Beca’s hands between them while she rides it out.

“God, I needed that so much,” Chloe says with a sigh of relief after a minute or two, head lolling to the left to look at Beca with an easy, contented smile.

Beca’s sure she herself still looks wrecked, but she can’t find it in herself to care. She manages a breathy laugh. “You’re telling me. Fuck, dude.”

Chloe’s smile brightens and she shimmies her shoulders a little. She’s proud. “Good?”

Beca laughs again, this time in disbelief because ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to describe what she just experienced.

“Gonna assume that means yes.”

“Mm, you’d be right,” Beca replies, finally finding the strength to stretch. “I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Beca glances at her as she stretches until she’s working herself onto her side so they can look at each other more easily. “Still going to repay you though. Just...need a few for minutes. I can almost feel my legs again.”

Chloe bursts into laughter at that and it makes Beca’s heart skip a beat. It’s never been so easy to be with anyone. Certainly not after sex. 

And the _sex._

She knows it’s cliche, but she’s had the best sex of her life with Chloe.

And she’s just as happy with Chloe when they aren’t having sex; if she wasn’t, they wouldn’t have been friends for so many years.

But she really, really misses the sex when they aren’t having it.

She knows what that all means but she shoves it away and instead works on gathering her strength because she’s determined to make Chloe come just as hard as she’d been made to. She knows Chloe would be fine with things if they fell asleep right now and that only makes Beca want her more. She also can’t accept the fact that Chloe’s fucked her senseless twice already and Beca’s barely had a chance to touch her tonight.

She hasn’t touched her at all. Not really.

Even if Chloe’s insisting Beca owes her nothing in return, she’s not-subtly suggesting she wouldn’t be opposed by lifting her hand, fingers still wet from herself, to Beca’s lips.

She needed an energy shot and Chloe’s given it to her. She can’t stop the moan that comes with tasting Chloe as she parts her lips to take her slender middle finger into her mouth. It spurs her on until she’s sitting up, Chloe’s hand falling away so Beca can move over until she’s leaning down to kiss Chloe and her hips fit between Chloe’s parted thighs.

She can tell Chloe’s trying to hold back, and as thoughtful and sweet as Beca finds that to be, she doesn’t want it. She kisses harder, rolling her hips against Chloe until Chloe’s fingernails dig into Beca where her hands have been idly resting.

“I wanna fuck you,” Beca says when she breaks from their kiss. The look on Chloe’s face at her statement is very telling.

“Who’s stopping you?” She’s a little breathless and her hips are still pushing up into Beca’s in the rhythm Beca had set, though Beca’s no longer moving. 

The statement is one of consent in its sexiest form. It makes her bite her lip in thought; she hadn’t gotten that far yet. She just knew she wanted to be the one responsible for Chloe’s next orgasm (or two, or three...).

“How do you want me?”

The question draws Beca out of her thoughts and she meets Chloe’s eyes. She’s looking at Beca expectantly and she’s still working herself against Beca’s hips for whatever friction she can gain. It also plants another thought in her brain.

“Like this,” she answers with a pointed roll of her hips that makes Chloe’s breath catch, only for Beca to extract herself from their embrace until she’s climbing off the bed.

She can feel Chloe’s eyes on her as she sits up to rest on her elbows, watching as Beca crouches to pull open the bottom drawer of Chloe’s nightstand.

“Oh, really?” Chloe asks in amusement and Beca tries not to blush as she slips the harness briefs Chloe had purchased—and put to good use—specifically to bend Beca over. Beca has yet to wear it.

“Shut up, you asked,” Beca huffs though she’s not genuinely defensive. She grabs the accompanying toy and bottle of lube before climbing back onto the bed to kneel between Chloe’s legs, still parted just as she’d left her, and work the toy into its O-ring.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to top me right now.”

Beca does blush at that and throws a glare her way. Beca’s affinity for being...welcoming of Chloe being in charge was something they were both aware of but never explicitly discussed. Until now, apparently. “I can always put this away, you know.” It’s an empty threat. 

Chloe smiles up at her and pointedly spreads her legs wider. It’s not necessary whatsoever; Beca already had plenty of room. She does it to tell Beca she wants it—wants her—and Beca leans down to kiss her, taking care to keep her hips back so there’s nothing but the barest graze of contact for Chloe.

She melts into the kiss; Chloe’s intentionally keeping it slow and sensual even though Beca’s the one ostensibly in control. She doesn’t mind, though. The things Chloe can do with her tongue, whether it’s in Beca’s mouth or on Beca’s skin, never make Beca want to rush things. 

Other than when Beca just wants to come.

She’s unhurried now, though. Satiated, mostly. She still feels warm and heavy and when she feels Chloe’s hand between them to guide the toy, Beca uses that weighty feeling to sink into her.

Chloe’s reaction is a low, throaty groan that makes Beca’s hips grind into her on instinct to prolong the sound. She’s never done this with Chloe, and it’s been a long time since she’s done it with anyone at all, but she doesn’t feel awkward like she has when she’s worn a strap-on with other women. She doesn’t feel pressured to perform and Chloe is so warm and at-ease beneath her. She knows she can take her time if she wants to, even as Chloe’s quiet whimpers and shifting hips urge her to do more than stay buried in her and grinding slowly while they kiss.

When she feels Chloe’s heel press into her lower back, she decides she can be done taking her time.

It’s easy to set a slow rhythm with her hips, especially once she lifts herself onto her elbows. It lets her look at Chloe, too, and the way her long eyelashes flutter every time Beca pushes into her.

The physical connection between them is, she knows, artificial, but the emotional one feels particularly real and resonating and for all the wild, lustful abandonment of how the night began, it feels particularly calm and almost soothing and the way Chloe’s eyes are on hers as she lifts a hand to frame Beca’s face, thumb tracing along her cheekbone until Beca’s kissing it when it presses against her lips only adds to it.

She’s filled with the urge to speak, to spill out feelings and confessions and she almost does it. Her lips even part and she takes a breath. But Chloe chooses the exact same moment to tilt her head back and moan, “Faster, Bec,” and the moment evaporates in favor of doing as Chloe’s asked.

She works her hips faster until she finds a good pace she can keep without getting too winded and it seems to work for Chloe, too, who moans her appreciation in the way Beca knows means she’s starting to lose herself to sex.

And that, the fact that Chloe can lose herself in the way Beca can make her feel, drives her. Drives her to shift herself until she can get a hand on the back of Chloe’s left knee to pull it up and then press it back, closer to Chloe’s chest. Drives her hips into Chloe with more force. 

It pulls a groan of what sounds like surprise from Chloe, whose hands claw at Beca’s shoulders at the dramatic change from steady lovemaking to what Beca knows is raw fucking driven by need. A need for pleasure and release and for Beca to make Chloe piss off their neighbors.

“Oh, my God, Beca,” Chloe moans. She still sounds dazed and Beca watches as she throws a hand back to press against the back of the couch that serves as their headboard to brace herself. It helps Beca’s thrusts hit even harder and more deeply and she watches as Chloe’s other hand falls from Beca’s shoulder to move between them. All Beca has to do is glance down for a second to confirm her assumption: Chloe’s touching herself again.

It means she’s close and wants to come and Beca doesn’t try to stop her. She wants to watch Chloe come like this, neck straining and body moving higher and lower on the bed with every move Beca makes.

It’s Beca that’s doing all these things to her. Making her moan. Making her so wet Beca can hear it. Making herself come while Beca’s pushing into her again and again with a moan that sounds ripped from her throat as she shudders. Beca slows so she can watch it happen until she’s no longer moving, just breathing hard and pressed as close to Chloe as she can manage while Chloe breathes just as hard.

Beca should have known when Chloe’s body didn’t melt into the bed in relaxation, but she’s still caught off-guard when Chloe’s eyes finally open and they’re just as dark as they’d been before she came.

“Don’t stop yet.”

Beca doesn’t mean to laugh but it’s a hint of delirium and a dash of physical exhaustion that cause it and she tries to cover it up by clearing her throat and shifting her weight to her right arm instead of her left, but she knows Chloe caught it when hands come up to hold her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” Chloe says earnestly and Beca knows it is, though she doesn’t necessarily agree with the implications.

“I can do it again,” she says with determination and tries to ignore the way her weaker, non-dominant arm is already trembling.

“Bec,” Chloe says with a smile that turns into a smirk as she nudges at Beca’s shoulders. “Lay down?”

The offer comes as a relief even though her pride doesn’t want to admit it. She’s also really, really here for them rolling over because she definitely wants to watch Chloe riding her. 

Except when Beca moves, Chloe doesn’t move with her and Beca finds herself alone on her back next to Chloe, who’s already sitting up, only to lean back down and kiss Beca as if she’d forgotten to do so before they parted.

“All good?” Chloe asks when they part and at Beca’s nod, the base of the strap-on grinds down against her clit.

“Fuck,” Beca gasps, hips immediately lifting in search of more. She’d been left painfully turned on with Chloe’s climax and she’s not sure how long she’ll last if Chloe’s going to keep doing what she’s doing. “Yeah, all good,” she answers after swallowing hard.

“This angle’s good?” Chloe’s purposeful with the way her hand is pressing and working the toy against Beca and Beca just nods. “Perfect,” she continues.

Beca watches her sit up again, missing her lips and the indirect friction but she knows it’s temporary.

She’s not ready for it, though, when instead of her right leg straddling Beca, Chloe’s turning her back to Beca and it’s her left leg straddling her.

“Oh, my God, what?” Beca says without thinking. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud but Chloe heard her and answers with a hum and all Beca can do is grab Chloe’s hips and watch Chloe guide the strap-on into herself until her body is flush with Beca’s. The view is different and just as sinful. Chloe’s back is all muscle and smooth skin that is already slick under Beca’s hands. Her hair hangs loose and reaches far down her back when she tips her face toward the ceiling with a moan that sounds more than satisfied.

She starts to move and immediately moans again. “You feel so good, shit, Beca.” There’s no slow increase of tempo this time; it’s clear Chloe doesn’t need the build-up. She leans forward just slightly and suddenly Beca’s the one groaning in surprise.

Now she understands what Chloe had been doing seconds ago. She wanted to figure out the angle that wasn’t just good for herself but good for Beca, too. 

Chloe wants to make Beca come while she rides her. 

“Good?” Chloe says with a turn of her head, though her eyes can’t meet Beca’s.

“Fuck,” Beca answers, digging her fingernails into Chloe’s hips to make her point. “Fuck, you look so hot.”

It’s not really an answer to Chloe’s question but it’s good enough. Chloe keeps the angle but works her hips even faster, her hands pushing through her own hair to lift it off her back in what is probably just need to cool off but it’s downright pornographic. It makes Beca’s hips start chasing her and Chloe feels it. 

Her hands drop from her hair to cover Beca’s hands. Connection. Connection as she rides Beca so hard that the metal legs of their shitty fold-out bed are scraping against the wooden floor with her motion.

“Chlo,” Beca says. “Fuck.” She’s trying to warn her, to tell her she’s going to come any second and if the goal is to finish together, Chloe needs to slow down.

“Yes, Beca, yes,” Chloe groans in response and her long, hard thrusts shift to sitting hard against Beca and grinding down and back. “God, Beca, come with me,” she gasps, right hand shifting to pull Beca’s hand off of her and tangle their fingers together before pressing it back against her waist.

Connection.

Beca doesn’t know who’s louder or who comes harder or longer. All she knows is that it’s together and even if she can’t see Chloe’s face at the moment, she doesn’t need to feel just as close to her as she had felt earlier. It’s heady and all-encompassing and she hisses at the unexpected direct contact of fingertips against her overstimulated clit. She didn’t even notice Chloe had moved at all, let alone turned around to lay next to Beca again.

“One more?” she asks as she kisses along Beca’s cheek.

Beca genuinely doesn’t think she can, at least not so soon, but all she can manage in reply is a moan when her hips decide for her and lift up into Chloe’s hand. It’s a snug fit, her hand down the front of the briefs, but that doesn’t matter. It makes it better.

“Why?” Beca finally manages just before Chloe’s lips make it back to her own.

“Why not?” Chloe answers.

Then they’re kissing again but Beca can hardly manage more than just offering her lips and mouth and tongue to Chloe for whatever she wants; she can’t focus anymore. Not when Chloe’s fingers are swiping back and forth across her swollen clit with a lewd kind of intensity that makes Beca feel a little like she’s in an adult film. One she’s proud to be the star of at the moment.

She doubts that she’ll be able to come again even with how amazingly intense it feels. It feels like a never-ending chord that’s been struck and sustained and she thinks it’s going to fade away until something changes. Maybe the speed or the angle or the pressure but with no warning and with a gasp that only makes Chloe kiss her harder when really what she needs is oxygen her body rocks into a blinding orgasm.

She can hear words. Chloe’s voice is in her ear which lets her breathe again. She doesn’t know what she’s saying but she sounds happy. Proud, maybe. It’s hard to concentrate on language when her body won’t stop throbbing and clenching around the fingers that slipped inside her at some point.

“I could do this with you forever.”

They’re the first words that register once her brain clears. They’re whispered while lips graze her cheek and jaw but she hears them ringing like a bell in her mind and they’re echoing her own thoughts from earlier.

Beca doesn’t dwell on it. She’s not really capable of complexities and she’s already been stripped bare in so many ways tonight. She just sighs and says, “So could I,” and tilts her chin so her lips can find Chloe’s.

She doesn’t start to panic about the exchange until Chloe’s helped her get the briefs off and tossed aside and she’s settled, warm and more than satiated, tucked into Chloe’s side, head on her shoulder and Chloe says, oh so casually, “So, forever, hm?”

It makes a different kind of heat flash through her and she hides her burning face against Chloe and does little more than grunt to at least acknowledge she heard her. She doesn’t know how to talk about this. She’s bad with words. Puts her foot in her mouth all the time. She’s an expert at saying the wrong thing. 

“Beca,” Chloe says with a chuckle that rumbles against Beca’s ear. “It’s okay, you know?”

She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what Chloe is referring to. She has an idea, but right now, assumptions and misinterpretations could be deadly. So she chooses to remain silent with the hope and trust that Chloe will just keep talking and have most of this conversation herself.

“And I know things are starting to go back to how they used to be. But I don’t want _us_ to go back to how we used to be.”

“You don’t?” Beca’s proud of herself for that response and stops pressing her face into Chloe’s shoulder and turns her cheek to it again. It helps that Chloe’s fingertips are grazing idly up and down her back in a way that could put Beca to sleep if her mind wasn’t racing. 

She feels Chloe shake her head. “I really don’t.” There’s a beat of silence and Beca hears her sigh. “Do you?”

Beca feels like she could hear a pin drop if someone were to drop a pin and if she could hear over Chloe’s heart suddenly pounding in her chest beneath Beca’s ear. It betrays Chloe’s outward stillness and the notion that the question she’s posed is making her nervous, too, is somehow calming Beca. Maybe it’s that Chloe’s been thinking about it, too, and for all the same reasons Beca’s been kicking around in her mind for weeks, has been wary of bridging the topic.

It’s a yes or no question, one that will push them to one side of a line or the other: Just Friends or Something More. Chloe and Beca or _Chloe and Beca._ Friends or, dare she think it, girlfriends. After so many years, maybe they’re finally going to get it right.

Her fingers rap quickly in thought where they lay against Chloe’s ribs as she tries to get her mind to slow down long enough to answer. She knows she’s taking too long and Chloe’s going to interpret her silence as a bad thing if she doesn’t hurry up and speak.

“No,” she blurts. She didn’t even realize she’d committed to the decision but the word is past her lips before she can analyze it any further.

She feels Chloe’s sharp exhale. “You don’t?”

It’s out, now. She gives a shake of her head and feels Chloe’s arm moving to better wrap around her. “No. I...really, really don’t.”

Chloe giggles at that and Beca watches Chloe’s other hand come up to touch Beca’s chin so Beca leans back and lifts her head a bit so they can actually look at one another. She doesn’t overlook that Chloe’s bright eyes are a little misty in the same way they get when the little girl gets a puppy in whatever heartfelt movie they’re watching at any given time. Chloe’s smiling, too and Beca can’t help but mirror it. “So what does that mean?” Chloe asks, eyebrows lifting in a way that feels mildly like a challenge.

Beca huffs. “You’re really putting this on _me,_ huh?”

Chloe shrugs and the hand that had grazed Beca’s chin moves to comb through Beca’s hair slowly, careful where there are tangles as she brushes it away from Beca’s face and behind her shoulder. She also worries at her bottom lip with her teeth even as she smiles.

It’s hard to imagine going back from this. That thought, and the way Chloe’s looking up at her with nervous excitement and touching her so lovingly… “Maybe that means we could try like...dating.” She has to bite her tongue to stop the ‘or whatever’ that wants to end the statement and instead rolls her eyes a little but quickly returns them to Chloe when fingernails scratch lightly at the back of her neck.

Chloe’s lip slips from between her teeth when her smile widens. “Yeah?”

“I mean…if you want.” She shrugs playfully. “I guess we could.”

“Okay,” Chloe says with a nod. “I’d like that.” Her hand tugs at Beca’s neck and Beca lets herself be reeled in for a slow kiss.

Beca would like that, too.

Very much.

_**The End** _


	5. Deleted Scene #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was suggested to and requested of me, in a very effective manner, to explore this horny universe further.
> 
> So consider this a deleted scene: the day after their first time having sex, between Chapters 2 and 3.

* * *

There’s a lot Beca doesn’t understand in the world.

Quantum physics. Income tax. Foreign trade agreements. Why people enjoy running marathons.

How she and Chloe ended up having extremely hot sex multiple times last night.

She supposes it was a culmination of things. The trust between them. The boredom. Cabin fever. The sexual tension they’ve been trying to alleviate together but separately, with the boundaries growing less and less defined as the days wore on. Their apparent mutual sexual attraction to one another.

She tries to do a quick tally in her head. It’s been two months since their first little experiment. Eight weeks. Fifty-six days. And other than the week they spent not talking about what happened the very first time, they have shared what they’ve taken to calling “moments” every single day.

Forty-nine days of watching Chloe come. Forty-nine days of Beca getting off right next to her. Forty-nine days and at least forty-nine orgasms _each_ that they’ve allowed the other to witness.

At least forty-nine orgasms that she gave herself until yesterday when her vibrator died and they decided Chloe’s fingers could replace it. She adds four more orgasms to her tally. Four that Chloe so willingly gave her. Two of which were accompanied by Chloe coming, too; the second time being around Beca’s fingers. 

She notices her hand trembling as she puts the bottle of conditioner back in its spot on the rack that hangs over the metal shower curtain rod encircling their middle-of-the-room bathtub. A slow, deep breath helps to calm her pulse which picked up considerably at the memories and she tries to focus on finishing her shower while she listens to Chloe singing along to one of Beca’s playlists a few feet away.

Chloe’s shadow moves along the white shower curtain, patterned with generic blue flowers, and Beca can tell she’s dancing around the room. It makes her smile and when Chloe’s fingers poke at the shower curtain, Beca pokes back like a game of Whack-a-Mole and she can hear the smile in Chloe’s voice as she sings along to a Jonas Brothers song that Beca acted ignorant about, blaming a click-and-drag error when it showed up on the playlist. It wasn’t an error, though.

“Want some company?”

The abrupt closeness of Chloe’s voice makes her jump and she twists her neck to see Chloe’s face smiling at her through the gap in the shower curtain. She immediately blushes because she is completely naked, but then again, they’ve seen each other naked innumerable times and, oh, right: they fucked each other senseless yesterday.

“You could wait your turn, you know,” she says with a roll of her eyes and a smile. She knows full-well that Chloe won’t take her response to mean, “no,” and she’s okay with that. Her barely slowed pulse picks up again in the few seconds Chloe disappears because she knows Chloe’s stripping.

“This is a great playlist, Bec,” Chloe says conversationally as she steps into the shower behind Beca.

She’s immediately close; their small apartment features everything in a reduced size to make it all fit and the bathtub is no different. It’s roughly two-thirds the size of a normal tub and Beca knows from experience that even in a standard-size bath, two people don’t have much space of their own.

“Thanks,” she says, keeping her eyes forward and pretending to not want to turn around and let her eyes rove over Chloe’s nude body.

“This is one of my favorite new songs.”

“Oh?” Beca feigns; she knew that. It’s why it’s on the playlist.

She hears Chloe hum in response and if she had Spidey senses, they would be tingling because she can feel that Chloe is _right_ behind her. “Save some hot water for me,” Chloe says, but it sounds a lot like honey and less like words the way they’re spoken next to her right ear.

Chloe’s hands find her waist. Beca’s body, already wound up from her trip down sexual memory lane, shivers from the contact. She feels herself being nudged forward and out of the spray of the showerhead that hangs above the center of the tub and she knows Chloe’s getting herself wet under the spray.

Like Beca is already wet.

It’s become Pavlovian. A touch or a wink or a flirtatious comment from Chloe and she ruins her underwear, but she’s not wearing any right now.

She feels Chloe against her back after a minute or two, both of them warm and wet and she can feel how Chloe’s nipples are hard and pressing into her. It makes her chin drop to her chest, partly because she feels a bit dizzy and partly because she wants to see Chloe’s hands on her. 

There’s only one on her waist now, though. She wonders where the other is until she feels it along her neck, scratching just the slightest bit as Chloe pulls her wet hair over and behind her shoulder, away from her neck.

“I can’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

The words melt over Beca’s ear and her head automatically tilts to the left, away from the voice. But it isn’t to escape. It’s because Chloe’s lips are so close to the right side of her neck and if she’s going to do something, anything at all, Beca wants to make sure she has plenty of skin to work with.

The hand not at her waist glides down her back until it’s following the curve of Beca’s ass, something that makes her twitch with need and makes Chloe chuckle in her ear as she squeezes it gently.

“What about it?” she manages to ask and she’s moderately embarrassed by how airy her voice has already become. But Chloe’s never touched her _there_ so it’s something new for her body to feel and respond to and, unsurprisingly, its response is to become more aroused.

“You were so…”—Chloe pauses and Beca holds her breath—“...eager,” she finishes with a sigh that Beca can feel. “To show me.”

Beca doesn’t need to ask for clarification; she’s been reliving the experience non-stop in her mind, what it was like to fuck herself with her vibrator just for Chloe. But she kind of really, _really_ likes the way Chloe’s hands are starting to roam her body, her hips and stomach and ribs until her back is arching and her head is tipping back from Chloe’s hands sliding up to cover her breasts.

They aren’t hesitant about it and Beca can’t stop the quiet, breathy “Shit,” that escapes her lips after her gasp of surprise. “Show you what?” she manages to prompt when Chloe doesn’t seem to be continuing her recounting of events.

“Whatever I wanted.” Her hands squeeze and Beca’s flail for something to hold on to but the shower is a complete safety hazard and doesn’t have one single, reinforced surface in it other than the tub itself and she suddenly questions if doing whatever they’re about to do is a wise choice.

She doesn’t mind the possibility of slipping and falling and spraining her wrist, but if she has a sprained wrist it’s going to make it exponentially more difficult to fuck Chloe the way she had yesterday.

Then again, there are a lot of other ways to fuck someone (Chloe) that don’t require the use of her hand. The image of Chloe in bed, on her back, one hand in her own hair and the other in Beca’s as Beca licks at her cunt fills her mind, and her breath stutters. Her hands find something to brace herself against: Chloe’s hips behind her. She needs something to help keep her upright because it’s way too soon to be collapsing into the pile of needy want that she already is.

“Happy to help,” she breathes, able to form words even as Chloe’s fingers start teasing her already stiff nipples. She kind of hates (loves) that Chloe already figured out how sensitive they are.

“So generous,” Chloe says, almost absently as Beca feels warm lips press against her cool shoulder.

It makes her eyelashes flutter open and she can’t help but look down again, this time to watch the way Chloe’s teasing her breasts. Her hands are in sync in the way they squeeze and circle and flick and pinch and Beca wonders if Chloe is remembering how quickly her attention to Beca’s nipples made Beca want Round Two last night.

She hasn’t even had Round One yet today but she knows she’s already as wet as if she was on Round Three. She can feel it when she shifts her feet. “Chloe.”

“Hmm?” Chloe’s hands grab at her breasts rather possessively.

“I need…” She could say she needs a moment, their passphrase to masturbate. But that isn’t what she wants. What she wants...is Chloe. 

“Tell me.” The words are followed by teeth against her shoulder, gentle but present.

Beca’s not completely sure she’s thinking. At least, not consciously. But she’s hyper-aware of what she’s doing as she reaches up to snag Chloe’s right hand to start dragging it down her body. “I need you.”

She can hear Chloe’s sigh as much as she feels it, hot breath against her ear before lips are pressing at her neck. It’s clear that Chloe understands, her hand no longer needing Beca to direct it but Beca holds onto it anyway. She wants the connection to have her hand on the back of Chloe’s as it slides past her navel and between her legs without hesitation.

She knows the sound she makes is pathetic, a whine that’s as much from relief as it is the need for more.

Chloe doesn’t seem to mind if the way she moans is anything to go by, as her fingers move confidently against Beca. She knows what Chloe is doing: she’s exploring, surveying how wet Beca is, and not from the shower. “You feel so good,” Chloe mumbles against her neck.

Beca just rolls her head further to the left, trying to offer more of herself up to Chloe’s whim. She thinks it’s absurd that Chloe thinks it’s Beca who feels good because Chloe feels absolutely fucking _amazing_ and Beca’s hips tilt forward as their hands, together, slide further between her legs.

Chloe really needs no direction whatsoever but Beca’s fucked herself for Chloe so many times, there’s something especially erotic about feeling Chloe fuck her. The ways her fingers reach to tease into her, just an inch or two, before they’re pulling back to start rubbing gentle circles against her clit. Chloe’s fingers beneath Beca’s.

“Fuck,” Beca moans when Chloe’s fingers pinch at her nipple the same time they lightly tug at her clit and her free hand, the one not following Chloe’s every move, flies up to cover the back of Chloe’s other hand. The one at her breast.

“God, you’re so hot,” Chloe whispers in her ear as she stops being quite so teasing with her touches. She’s slow but steady, fingers swiping back and forth over Beca’s clit in a way that has Beca’s hips chasing her for more. “Do I really make you this wet?”

Beca doesn’t know if Chloe expects an answer or even needs one. It’s a rhetorical question but Chloe deserves to know how much she arouses Beca. If their roles were reversed, she’d want to hear it from Chloe, so she swallows and hopes her voice works for something other than the whimpers and moans it’s been producing.

“Yeah,” she says, voice cracking to make her swallow again. “You turn me on so much. Fuck.”

She hears a broken moan from Chloe in her ear and she braces herself for what she hopes her words incite: something less measured and torturous. She wants Chloe to take her. She’s already at her mercy but she presses Chloe’s fingers more firmly against herself anyway, trying to drive home her point.

Instead, Chloe pushes back until her hand is retreating from its place.

The loss makes Beca stutter-step forward and thankfully Chloe steadies her. “Dude,” she whines, whipping her head around to ask why she stopped but Chloe’s already taking a step backward, then another as she catches Beca’s hand to pull her along, too.

“Bed,” Chloe says as she steps out of the tub. “So I can fuck you properly.” She smirks as she says it.

Beca’s knees are unsteady as she follows, Chloe helping her over the edge of the tub and right into a kiss that happens so seamlessly Beca doesn’t even remember it beginning. Chloe, in better control of her faculties, walks backward and Beca takes quick glances as her tongue plays with Chloe’s to see that their bed is only another step or two away. She spares a thought for the fact that they’re both sopping wet from the shower and they’re about to fall onto their bed, but she doesn’t do anything to stop it. Not when Chloe’s hand is suddenly between her legs again making it almost impossible for Beca to walk.

Chloe pulls Beca down with her and though Beca had expected to be turned and pushed onto her back, she’s pleasantly surprised when she ends up straddling a seated Chloe.

Through the fog of her mind, she distinctly remembers Chloe telling her that her favorite position is to have a girl in her lap riding her. _“Fingers, strap, whatever.”_ She can hear Chloe’s words in her memory and spares a thought to how, when she’d heard them that late night in bed, she had been so incredibly turned on by the concept of anyone (specifically herself) riding Chloe’s fingers (strap, whatever) that she’d started debating whether or not she could inconspicuously get herself off in bed once Chloe fell asleep.

She hadn’t expected things to take the turn they did that night. Nor the developments in the days thereafter driven by boredom, proximity, libido, and a strong sexual attraction that culminated in Chloe coming against her thigh while Beca came on Chloe’s fingers.

Just like she knows she’s going to once again in the very immediate future.

Her hips move of their own accord, grinding herself down against Chloe’s hand. She’s desperate for more and tries to make it known, not just with trying to take more but giving more. She kisses Chloe hard, hands gripping her shoulders and nails clawing at her back in ways that she hopes don’t hurt as much as she hopes to leave marks. She wants to see evidence of it on Chloe. Something to complement the hickeys Chloe sucked into her neck and breasts last night.

Chloe, however, seems intent on taking her time and Beca doesn’t have time for time.

“Chloe,” she growls in desperate irritation before kissing Chloe particularly hard.

“Hmm?” Chloe sounds annoyingly innocent as she pulls her hand back until her fingertips are barely touching Beca at all.

It makes Beca sit back, her ass against Chloe’s thighs, and muster the strength to look Chloe squarely in the eye. “Are you _trying_ to drive me crazy?”

Chloe nods proudly and it makes Beca tip her head back and groan in annoyance.

“You tell me you can’t stop thinking about yesterday and now you tease—” her rant is cut off by Chloe’s fingers sinking into her cunt. All the way. Curling inside to reach even further until her palm is pressed against Beca’s body. “Jesus Christ,” is how her sentence finishes and she lets Chloe bring her face forward and down again to pick up their kiss where they’d left off.

Beca is quick to take what she wants. Chloe’s filling her so perfectly and her palm is so deliciously pressed against Beca’s clit that she doesn’t hesitate to roll her hips forward to start riding her hand. She ignores the satisfied chuckle she hears. She doesn’t need to think about Chloe being proud that she’s so easily able to drive Beca mad with desire. Instead, she thinks about how she knows Chloe is loving this as much as she is and how fucking good it feels to have Chloe’s hand, the one Beca _isn’t_ fucking, grab her ass and encourage her to move more quickly.

Not that Beca needs encouragement.

She has to break away from their endless kiss. She needs to be able to breathe and Chloe’s mouth is too demanding. She knows she could just grab Chloe’s shoulders and lean back to work her hips but she opts for leaning forward, arms around Chloe’s neck, cheek-to-cheek. She wants to be close, and the way Chloe’s fingernails dig into the soft flesh of her ass tells her Chloe likes it.

“You’re so hot,” Chloe praises and Beca moans in her ear. “God, Beca, can you go faster?”

She doesn’t really know why Chloe wants her to go faster; it’s not like Beca’s fucking anyone but herself, but maybe Chloe is just enjoying being ridden _that_ much.

“Uh-huh,” she manages to respond. It’s easy in their position to bear down and grind herself against Chloe until the only concept that exists in her brain is ‘reckless abandon.’ “Oh, fuck,” she groans when Chloe’s fingers curl just-so and suddenly she’s lightheaded. She holds on tightly, one hand tangling in Chloe’s messy, still-wet hair. ‘Desperate’ is no longer an accurate descriptor for her need. It’s maddening. It’s all-consuming.

She’s never been one to be particularly vocal in bed. She’s always caught up in feelings of self-consciousness and concern that she’ll be judged for enjoying something too much.

That particular hang-up seems to have been erased, however, and she’s vaguely aware that she might be damaging Chloe’s hearing the way she’s moaning in her ear but it only seems to spur Chloe to praise her which makes Beca further lose her sense of self.

She doesn’t know how she hasn’t come yet. She’s been on the verge since Chloe’s fingers slipped into her. But it feels so good, feels so right like they’re meant to fit together this way that she doesn’t want it to end.

She’s starting to lose her grip on the thread of control she’s clinging to, though, because Chloe’s moving beneath her like she’s trying to push her hips up into Beca. Like she’s trying to fuck her with something other than what Beca thinks must now be the three fingers inside of her, and she’s moaning like she’s the one on the verge of orgasm.

Beca’s not sure what to do with that information, that Chloe might come, too, because she’s enjoying what’s happening just that much. Her body knows what to do with it though, which is to push her past the point of being able to stop it.

It must be obvious because Chloe’s repeating, “Come for me,” in her ear over and over until all Beca can do is cling to her as it overtakes her. Her ecstasy flows through her veins quickly with as hard as her heart is pounding, flooding her senses with pleasure that has her seeing stars behind her closed eyelids.

She slumps in Chloe’s lap when it’s over, arms still around her neck as her head rests on her own bicep. She’s vaguely aware of how hard Chloe’s breathing and that she’s not collapsing from tired release the way Beca is.

“You didn’t come.” Her words are loose in the afterglow, filter absent for now.

Chloe’s quiet laugh is strained. “Almost did.”

Beca doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like that Chloe didn’t get off when it was obvious she was so close. It empowers her to lift her head and sit up to look at her. Just how close Chloe was is evident on her face. Beca’s watched her orgasm enough times now to know all her tells. “Why not?”

Chloe kind of shakes her head like she can’t quite answer the question and Beca thinks she knows. At least, she hopes what crosses her mind is correct: that maybe, just maybe, Chloe wants Beca to be the one to do it for her.

After all, that was exactly what Beca had wanted as well. “Tell me what you want.” It’s why she lost her damn mind with need when Chloe started touching her. “I’ll do it.” She kisses her as if to seal her promise and feels herself shiver when Chloe groans with need, her returning kiss borderline obscene and dripping with desire.

Beca thinks she shouldn’t be surprised that they seem to be mutually insatiable, at least when it comes to each other, after how mind-blowing their first time was last night. After how shameless they had been with their mutual, or sometimes solo but performative, masturbation. Fucking themselves at the breakfast table in broad daylight probably should have been a clue. Or maybe even before that when Beca tugged on Chloe’s hair, just a bit, as Chloe played with herself because Beca knew Chloe would like it.

“Just touch me,” Chloe says before nipping at Beca’s bottom lip. “Please.”

It’s an easy request. One that only needs Beca to shift back a couple of inches so there’s room to fit her hand between them. She doesn’t stop kissing Chloe as she does it, pausing only for the briefest of moments to let her fingers pluck at hard nipples before she’s sliding her hand between Chloe’s legs.

“Fuck,” she says against Chloe’s lips. Chloe’s so wet that Beca can feel it against the bedding beneath her when she reaches far enough to push her fingers into her.

Chloe’s reaction is quick, her jaw dropping for a moment to moan Beca’s name before her mouth is on Beca’s again.

Beca savors the way Chloe tightens appreciatively around her fingers before she withdraws them. The angle isn’t great for that but what she _can_ do is play with Chloe’s swollen clit.

Chloe shows her gratitude for that with her voice between kisses, moans, and Beca’s name and begging for harder and faster. Harder and faster until Beca’s bracing herself and pressing her knees into the bed for leverage to grind into Chloe’s clit in a way that has Chloe’s hips nearly levitating as she leans back, one hand behind her for support and the other mindlessly grabbing at Beca’s breast and an endless stream of curse words until— 

“Shit, Beca, I’m gonna come.”

She announces it and though Beca is well-aware of that fact, she appreciates it all the same. Chloe telling her that, because it’s Beca fucking her, makes her own cunt clench with need and she’s not really thinking when she grabs Chloe’s hand to yank it off her breast and shove it back between her legs. 

“Fuck me again. I wanna come with you.” No filter. Just desire.

Chloe’s head falls back and she somehow moans even louder. Beca considers the fact that it’s the middle of the day and there’s no chance that their neighbors aren’t hearing this, but she doesn’t care. Not when Chloe’s fingers are back on her clit, rubbing with very little (and completely unnecessary) precision.

She hadn’t let up on her attention to Chloe and she’s ready for it when she feels—and hears, and sees—Chloe rocketing toward the cliff. She’s just as close from listening to Chloe and she doubles-down on her efforts to send them both over the edge.

There’s a sudden racket above them, someone stomping on their ceiling and shouting but it only makes them laugh in acknowledgment before returning their voices to the aftershocks of their mutual release.

“Fuck,” Beca eventually says through a laugh of disbelief. “That was…I don’t even know.”

She also doesn’t know when they ended up lying down. Chloe’s arm must have given out—or she gave up trying to stay upright—when she came because Chloe’s on her back and Beca’s on top of her, the angle kind of awkward and uncomfortable with how close they are to the edge of of the bed. Neither of them seems to mind, though, because she lifts her head and turns to kiss Chloe without hesitating, and Chloe wraps her arms around Beca and sighs into it.

“We are so good at that,” Chloe says with a smile once the kiss slows to a natural end. She heaves a sigh and Beca can feel the way Chloe’s heart is still pounding. “I honestly didn’t know if you’d want to do it again.”

Beca thinks that is absurd and the look on her face must illustrate her feelings because Chloe gives her A Look.

“We did it, like, four times or something last night,” Beca says, finally finding the strength to push herself off of Chloe to crawl up the bed so she can flop onto her back and cool down. “You thought I’d change my mind?”

She watches Chloe do the same, a slow struggle of rolling over to pull herself up into her side of the bed, though she remains stretched out on her stomach, head propped up on folded arms. Beca has the distinct urge to reach over and trace invisible patterns over her back.

“Well, you know,” Chloe says with an awkward shrug, given her position, “it could have been a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

Beca still feels stripped bare, mentally in addition to the physical. Chloe unfolding her arm to reach over and rest her hand over Beca’s left breast to idly hold it, her thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple, keeps her from putting any filters back into place. Chloe likes the connection. She wants to touch Beca, to keep her in the moment. It’s exactly what she had done last night after the first time, teasing Beca’s nipple until she was begging for Chloe to make her come again.

Right now, though, it’s comforting. Reassuring. Safe. And Beca knows they’re not finished, that this conversation is only an intermission so while her arousal simmers on low, she’s able to think soundly. “Well, if I didn’t make myself clear last night,” she says, bringing her hand up to rest over Chloe’s, “I’m totally down to keep doing this.”

Chloe’s gentle smile starts to grow until she’s pushing herself up onto an elbow and angling herself to hover above Beca. “Yeah?”

“Our neighbors are going to hate us. You’re so fucking loud,” she says, glancing at Chloe’s lips because she wants to kiss them.

Chloe tilts her head. “ _I’m_ loud? I think my ear is still ringing.”

Beca feels herself blush but she’s not embarrassed. “Whatever.”

“God, you came _so_ hard for me.” Chloe’s words sound like honey again and Beca knows they’re about to be finished talking. “Think you can do it again?” Her hand is already pulling out from under Beca’s, leaving her to play with her own nipple as Chloe’s moves lower.

Beca’s own hands weave their way into Chloe’s messy hair to pull her down for the kiss she’s been waiting for. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

_**The End (...again)** _


End file.
